


our lines, in two dimensions

by sisinala



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Blood, Body mutilation, Burns, Existential Angst, Gen, Reylo x anime basically, Size Difference, Violence, War violence, all my anime or manga pairings bec im trash, biting kink, carries the same violence as the series, fma:brotherhood au, future sexy times, here be the vampire boss, its them set to the anime world, mental trauma, mention of suicide, mentions of gore, midnight secretary au, numerous deaths come on its attack on titan, reylo in anime anthology, secretary!Rey, snk/aot au, some deaths as casualties of war, vampire ben starts at chap 4, vampire!Ben Solo, very ugly giant cannibal beings, will update tags as I go along, you have been warned thank you
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-08-11 13:49:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20154631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sisinala/pseuds/sisinala
Summary: Somehow, in every universe, they find each other. A wardog and a keeper of secrets. The fastest ninja and the vessel of the fox demon. A demon butler and his lady out for revenge. More to come :)Reylo, in anime worlds, because yes.





	1. The White Queen (as Royai, FMAB)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seeyouspaceweeb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seeyouspaceweeb/gifts), [cosmic_interference](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmic_interference/gifts), [shadesofstubbornness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadesofstubbornness/gifts), [diasterisms](https://archiveofourown.org/users/diasterisms/gifts), [stories_in_my_head](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stories_in_my_head/gifts), [anoonzee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anoonzee/gifts), [murakamism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/murakamism/gifts), [ReyreyButt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReyreyButt/gifts).

> Hi! It's me, adding to my lists of WIPs because I have no self-control. Please mind the tags. Thank you!

_Greetings spirit of fire:_

_I see you in the flame of a candle_

_Teach me to understand the strength of fire_

_Avenge me and others by death in flames…_

_Let us dwell together in peace, warm me in the cold, give me light in the darkness_

_Spirit of fire, I wish you well and thank you_

_\--Flumen Viride, “The Rites - Four Elements: Earth, Fire, Air, Water.”, as translated by soterianyxs_

Rey’s shoes tap quietly on the polished stone tiles of the sidewalk, echoing dully in the empty street. The flowers on the rows of flower beds in front of the houses lacked their lush in the moonlight, unlike the ladies of court from that royal party she just ran away from. They seemed to be encouraged by the setting sun to bloom, flitting and flirting in such a way that ‘Elizabeth’ (she ached to roll her eyes at her alias, no doubt Solo had something to do with it) would not be able to, even in her fitted black silk gown. She was getting too nauseous in the bright lights of the Aerugan castle, and the prince was getting too handsy in his drink while they talked of peace that she had to pull out and regroup. 

The straps of her shoes bit into her ankles, so she leaned down to adjust them. She had no complaints about switching out her military boots for a stylish pair of black suede block pumps because one, it was all at the expense of the intelligence budget and two, General Solo’s eyes kept wandering over to them at the mission briefing. 

As she does so, her view of her temporary apartment changes, and she sees a shadow pass on the wall opposite her window. 

She had long since outgrown the anxious way she felt for the guns on her thigh holsters, quickly learning that when she passes her hands over them to calm herself, the eyes of her targets immediately zone in on the action. So she settled with the knowledge that she just had to draw them out and turn off the safety. 

The mission to Aeruga was a delicate matter that she only trusted herself to accomplish, much to Solo’s displeasure. 

_ “Who’s going to write unintelligible notes on my reports now?” _He said this with a carefree voice as he rolled his jaw and his eyes begged her to stay. _This is the price we have to pay to change the world,_ her unwavering stare said in return. 

After Snoke fell, and after the country scrambled over what was left, one of Leia’s first actions forward was to mend broken relations with the border countries of Amestris. Aeruga was the first to reply since their southern royal family held power over most of the country. The others had scattered power centers due to regional differences. But Amestris has also been technically at war with Aeruga for years, so the royal family couldn’t immediately show support for the new Amestris government without a country-wide backlash starting from the still mourning people of Fotset tragedy. So Rey had to go undercover for the peace talks. 

Snoke’s attempt at immortality carved such a gash in history that it would be felt by generations. 

She walked slowly towards her door, never letting her eyes stray towards the window again, feigning ignorance. The doorknob clicks as she unlocks it. 

The gun in her hand pressed into her attacker's jaw as their arms went around her waist. The attacker just chuckled lowly and pressed their lips on the top of her head, 

“_Hello to you too_, Lieutenant-General” 

He kicks the door closed, tightening his arms around her and bending down to burrow his face on her neck. His words were vibrations on her skin. Rey shivered. She put down her gun. 

“General. What are you doing _here_? You’re supposed to be in Amestris, assisting your mother”

“She keeps bothering me. I had to get out of there before I depose _her_, too” Rey couldn’t help but hide her laughter by clearing her throat. 

“She’s your mother. Now you know where you get it from”

“That’s not a very nice thing to say to your superior officer”

“Oh but you’re not my superior officer, _sir_. I’m _Elizabeth _Niima, a rich blonde mysterious heiress from the outskirts whose family fell from grace with the royal family. And who now apparently wants in by seducing the crown prince” 

Ben huffs out in disgust, and she couldn’t help but bring her hand to his wrist, gently caressing the skin exposed by the end of his coat sleeve and the edge of his white gloves. 

“Tell me if he’s bothering you too much”

“Then what are you going to do, General? You’re in Amestris and we need his help. I tried talking to the rest of the royal family. He’s the most amicable out of all of them” He breathes out a slow sigh. 

“Tell me. Even though I can’t do anything about it. _Please_.” He likes knowing the power that word has over her. Rey leans her head towards his shoulder, fitting them into place and relishing in it until she sighs and slowly tugs at his arms so she can turn around and face him. They haven’t turned on the lights, which was good because whoever was looking in couldn’t see inside. The dim street lights outside only allow her to see the dim half of his face, the side where she carved a scar into him--in fulfillment of her promise to strike him down if ever he faltered from his goals. 

Tight lips and drooping, tired eyes. She raises her hand to pass her thumb over the bags under the latter. 

“What happened?”

“Tensions with Creta. The president hasn’t left her office in weeks. She’s grating on my nerves. And I needed to see you. I haven’t been scolded by anyone other than the president in over two weeks. I’m probably falling into the dark side again. I missed you.”

Rey thanks the darkness for hiding her blush. Damn him. 

“Tell your mother that sleep is important to the clarity of mind” He looks expectant. His lips formed an almost subtle frown. She scrunches her nose, rolls her eyes. “Fine, I missed you too” 

The relieved laugh that bursts out of him warms her chest in a way that she can’t comprehend. Or maybe she did. Because they’ve been dancing along the edges of an endless cliff for the longest time haven’t they? Ben buries her in his arms, tucking her head under his as his chest rumbles. 

“You look beautiful, by the way. Though I’m still deciding on the blonde” At his words, the pins she’d forgotten feeling all pressed insistently on her scalp. 

“I should take all of this off. I’m tired”

“Need some help?” The dangerous promise in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. She stands on her tiptoes, waiting for him to bend down further so she could whisper in his ears. 

“I don’t think that’s appropriate military personnel behavior, _sir. _I am your subordinate, after all,” She slips from his arms, sending him a heated look as she leaves her standing by the door with his mouth open. She laughs quietly to herself. 

…

He had taken off his boots, and nothing else. Ben was already snoring his ass off her plush velvet couch when she came out of the shower, slipping into the only cotton pajamas she was allowed to bring. Elizabeth Niima preferred silk nightgowns but Rey does not. She rolls her neck, finding out that she wanted to re-dye her hair immediately so she could stop wearing the unbearable wigs. 

She slipped next to him, gently nudging his shoulders to wake him. He groaned and gathered her into his arms. Rey sighed in contentment. He was very warm. 

“General. We should move to the bed”

“Are you propositioning me, Lieutenant General? I thought you preferred appropriate military personnel behavior?”

“You’re going to wake up with a crick in your neck and then complain to me about it for the rest of the day. Stand up.”

“Mm, bossy. Maybe you should be General, instead”

“Aren’t I already?” He lifted his head from the back of the couch to stare at her. 

“Touché. We should make it official on the paperwork”

His wicked smile was contagious. She raised an eyebrow. 

“Will I be doing said paperwork?”

“Probably. Even though your handwriting is atrocious” She slapped his chest and tried to fight his arms so she could drag him bodily from the couch. He was probably thrice as big as her, but she knew how to throw him over her shoulder when she needed to. He just sat up, her in his arms, and walked towards where he guessed her bedroom was. He was right, as always. Sometimes she swore he knew her better than she did herself. Though she could say that it was true the other way around. 

He glanced at the unmade bed, which was uncharacteristic for Rey who scrubbed at the floors and windows of her office to pass the time. He gazed at her in question.

“I was in a hurry”

“Why?” She blushed. She woke up aching for him that morning which resulted in, ah, activities by herself that gave her only enough time to prepare her disguise. She doesn’t give him the pleasure of a spoken answer, but the tint in her cheeks was confirmation enough. 

“I see” He drops her onto the bed. Rey curls up on her side as she watches him as he strips of his long black overcoat, unbuttons his shirt and slips into bed next to her. His arms drag her forward, making her yelp, and tucks her into his warmth. He sighs long and deep. In a few minutes, he would probably be asleep. 

“I couldn’t sleep without you. It’s--” It was true what they say, how the war stretches longer than it was in your mind. How it latches to every part of you until all that is was your part in it. Rey feels a trigger in her hand constantly, even though she’s now mostly holding pens. She still can’t stand things dropping loudly on the floor. And she can’t help looking out the window to reassure herself that today exists, that he was here next to her breathing. 

“I know”

...

He was the one who found her, on that muddy patch of land about three blocks away from their house. Her father had just died, leaving behind a legacy tattooed on her back. The newest burn lines ache, especially in the rain. She hopes the water doesn’t ruin the symbols. They’re the only things she has left now. 

“He’s finished the array. Do you want to see?” 

There was something in her eyes that he found, something that probably echoed in him-- a legacy child with too much on his shoulders, abandoning his name with decades of history for one he mumbled in a panic. What the hell kind of name is Kylo Ren anyway? 

“Rey, let’s get you out of the cold. Let’s go home, please”

“I don’t have a home anymore. He burned the house down. Didn’t you see?”

“You can stay with me” 

She hummed, a noise with no meaning but to fill the silence. 

“Rey. Please.”

She was crying, though she didn’t think she could. Heat rolled down her cheeks in uneven lines even though she wasn’t sad, not really. Maybe she should be? Her father just died. But there was just this gaping hole inside of her chest that left her feeling nothing, only a hollowness. Rey stared at space in front of her, not recognizing what she was looking at. 

“_Rey_”

He had put his arms around her shoulders and was picking her up. She went with him.

“He’s dead, Ben. My father’s dead. I’m free. Why am I not happy?”

“It’s alright to mourn, Rey. But not in the rain, you’ll get sick. Let’s go inside, please” 

Weakly, she nodded. They were soaked to their socks by the time they arrived at the place he was staying at. She’d been here a thousand times, always feeling like this was the place she truly belonged. Their house was a place of tragedy, of a mother died too young and a father who tried to bury the hole she left behind with the secrets of flame alchemy. Rey wanted to leave as soon as she could, but when she woke to find their house burning and her father dead, she felt more tied down than she ever was. 

“You have to change. I haven’t yet washed the clothes you left here last time, but you can borrow from me” She stayed still, standing, dripping on the hardwood floors. His apartment was nothing more than a room divided into sections by furniture, and she stared at the growing pool on her feet as he shuffled around for dry clothes. 

“Maybe you should take a shower? I’ll set it up for you. Rey? Rey, would that be okay with you?” Mechanically, she did what he asked. Under the hot water, the scores on her back aching in protest, the ashes and the mud washed away with the soap. The water ran for too long that when she slipped into Ben’s too big clothes, her hands and feet were pruney. He was waiting for her at his dinner table, two mugs of tea in front of him. She sat at the only other available chair in front of him. 

“Do you want to talk about it, I’ll listen if you want. Or if you just want someone to stay with you that’s fine with me too. You’re not alone, Rey”

“Neither are you” She smiled sadly. Out of all hard truths she had to swallow recently, this was a welcome change. Maybe he wouldn’t always be there, maybe they would grow apart, maybe he would never love her the way she loved him, but the knowledge that he was here, right now, sitting in front of her with tea in hopes that his presence could somehow comfort her made her feel like there was a shore in the middle of drowning in this ocean. 

“Thank you, Ben.”

“You’re always welcome, Rey.” She hopes so. The cup sat in between her palms, warm and inviting. She takes a sip. After moments of silence, she says. 

“Do you want to see it?”

“Would now be a good time? Are you sure you want me too? Your father trusted you with his secrets. They’re yours now, Rey. You have the absolute right over it.”

“I know what your goals are. And I believe in you. And you’re my friend now, right?”

“Always have been, Rey” That hurt more than expected, knowing that she was only his friend. But Rey had always taken what she could and kept it close. It was the only way she knew how. She was thankful that they were friends. She never had one before. Her father was too much of a recluse and a maniac and he needed constant care. No time for friends. Ben was his apprentice and it was the only reason they even got close enough to be acquaintances. 

“I just-- It hurts, Ben. And I can’t reach behind me. Do you have anything, a salve or any burn ointment--” There was a small tube once, she saw, when her father taught him how to hold a flame in his hands. 

“Yes, I do. Sit on the bed, I’ll look for it” She did, and he came back slowly, approaching so carefully. Rey nodded and lifted the edge of her shirt, exposing her back to him. She heard him take a breath. 

“It’s--” 

_ “Beautiful.”_ Her father had said. She saw it briefly on the glass when it was done. She couldn’t quite understand, she never had the penchant for alchemy--probably since her father was obsessed with it and she hated it for taking him away, but she could admit that the array was beautiful. She especially liked the twin snakes and the sun. It was what her mind dwelled upon as her back throbbed at the pain of the symbols burned onto her back. 

“I’m sorry” He finally said. 

“Why?” He didn’t answer, only squeezed the tube and spread it over his fingers. 

“I don’t think I have enough to cover the entire thing. I’ll get to the worst parts for now. I’m getting more tomorrow. Ready?”

The coolness of the salve made her moan in satisfaction. In contrast, Ben’s hands were warm, and not in the painful way her father’s hand did as he did the array. She luxuriated at the feel of his fingers, very careful so that he would not press too hard, especially at the most tender areas. His hands traced the symbols. She could feel his mind turning, trying to unravel the paths that her father’s mind had twisted into. 

“I’m going to patch it with a bit of gauze, alright? It’s medicated.”

“Do what you think is best, Ben. I trust you”

“I hope I don’t let you down” When his hands dropped, and the silence stretched for too long that she got uncomfortable, she asked. 

“What does it mean, Ben?” She turns to him, his eyes hesitant. “It’s on my skin. I want to know”

He nodded. 

“I can’t understand most of it. But it’s complicated fire alchemy. There's the symbols of the zodiac, it begins with Aries, usually attributed to the alchemical process of calcination. The heating to high temperatures in the absence of air or oxygen. Or heating something under a controlled temperature in a controlled environment. All of the zodiac represents perfect alchemy.”

She closed her eyes to relish the sound of his voice. He trailed off.

“Go on, Ben. I’m listening”

“The transmutation circle. The triangle in the middle is fire. The bigger ones. Earth? And air? I don’t-- The salamander is the fire elemental, in alchemy they believe it to be born in flames. But really they just live in wood and then they burn them, so they see salamanders a lot. Anyway, the flame at the top, more fire. The end product.”

“But this part. I don’t know why it’s there” Rey opened her eyes to turn to him. His hand was tracing the serpents down her back. And then circling the sun below. It was starting to tickle. "The sun. Sulfur. Active, volatile. The serpents though, that’s Mercury. Passive, fixed. But together. The Red King and The White Queen. It’s the chemical marriage. I don’t know why it’s there.”

“It should mean something. He put it there” Rey countered. He was blushing. 

“Then there are poems, I’m pretty sure it’s Latin. About fire. I can only understand the first line. _Igni Natura Renovatur Integra. _Nature is completely renewed by fire. I think. This part. _Cuantum indissolubilis qualitas reverto. _How many… How much… indestructible quality can be reverted. Then there’s equations. I need more time with this one. This. A law. Thermodynamics. Second Law. Heat transfer.” She could understand half of it by the rabid ramblings of her father, and at his frustration that she wasn’t interested in any of it. But it was nice to listen to his awed voice as he traced his fingers in a circle around her back to follow the shape of the words.

“This one. I don’t understand this one. I have to read more books. This one is another Law of Thermodynamics. It’s the first one. Energy can neither be destroyed nor created. But its properties can be _changed_. Light is the first law of nature. It’s Equivalent Exchange. To create something, something of equal value must be lost. Destroyed.” 

There was something in his eyes. 

Something like an apology. 

...

He disappears. It doesn’t happen immediately, even after he copies the entire thing. Just in parts to protect her secrets. It happens as the quiet, as eyes flitting away from hers, as nights spent poring over books and scrolls and papers and diagrams, as unreturned conversations, and ends with her staring at his back as he boards the train with a single word. 

“Goodbye”

The next time she hears about him, was the announcement that he was a state alchemist. The flame alchemist, they called him. He was being shipped off to war. Same as her. She cleaned her guns too thoroughly that day. She misses lunch and dinner, not wanting to be with the others in the mess hall. 

She sees the edges of the explosions, could feel the heat in her face. He’s the most loyal dog, they say. Snoke has him on a very tight leash. He was very efficient at eliminating targets and avoiding other soldiers. He stayed on the front lines. She did too, losing count of how many fell at the other end of her crosshair. Rey washes her hands as if there was blood on them. 

When she finally sees him again, it was almost over. She was almost over too. 

_ “You asked why we’re killing people instead of protecting them? This is a war, that’s what soldiers do.”_

He punches the other state alchemist’s mouth when he starts talking about her and her guns. She asks him to burn her back. She won’t allow another flame alchemist to exist. He only agrees to scar part of it. He cries when he does it, murmurs apologies every other moment. She doesn’t.

…

He wants to change the world. She walks beside him even after all she’d seen and done because she does too. They would carry their sins, make way for something that would allow future generations not to grow up in blood and suffering. 

It takes long. It takes all their lives. 

But one day, on a hot summer afternoon, a drizzle taking away some of the heat after they’re done looking over reports and she’s checked his when they’re eating the lunch he made for them, he just blurts out,

“Do you want to get married?”

She looks around the room, knowing already that they were alone. Her grip on her pen tightens. And loosens. Then tightens again. Rey breathes slowly to calm herself. 

“What?”

He settles his cheek on his fist, tilting his head.

“We wouldn’t do any paperwork, of course. No paper trail. I hate it as much as you love food in general. Just us. We won’t tell anyone.” She blushes her way to highest heaven. She swallows, her heart on her throat. 

“Shouldn’t you get down on your knees first?”

“Is that a yes?”

“Does it sound like one?”

“Not yet. What do I have to do?”

“Get a ring.”

“I have one. My mother gave it to me two years ago. She’s been asking since then when I’ll finally have the guts to give it to you. It’s an heirloom that my love-crazed grandfather gave my grandmother. Would you wear it?”

“Do you have it right now?”

“Maybe.”

“Then I will maybe wear it.”

“It’s on the drawer to your right.”

They all ask about their rings that just spontaneously appeared on their ring fingers about two months after. Leia’s eyes sparkle because she knows. She always knows. Finn freaks out, as he does. Rose just smiles conspiratorially. Poe is clueless. Holdo asks if they would like to ask Leia if she could maybe tweak some military laws to make it a bit more official. They refuse. They were fine. They like that it’s just them.

He kisses her back, then her forehead, every night before they go to sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Latin translations were from soterianyx's and antimoony's tumblrs. I wouldn't have understood anything otherwise, bless their souls.
> 
> Here is Riza Hawkeye/Rey's tattoo:


	2. carry me through no man's land (as PetraxLevi, SnK)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They find each other in hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya it's me again. Ruining both reylo and Attack on Titan this time :) This was getting a bit long so I had to split it to two. I probably would have the next half soon. Please mind the tags!

_ “I want to put an end to that recurring nightmare, right now.  _

_ There are those who would get in my way.  _

_ But I'm fine playing the role of the lunatic who kills people like that.  _

_ I have to be ready to rearrange some faces. _

_ Because I choose the hell of humans killing each other _

_ over the hell of being eaten.” _

She said it was an omen, how they met. 

Ben remembers. He remembers everything. He swore a long time ago that he would. He clutches their names to his chest, like whispering them before he sleeps tethers their memory to the earth, grounds him, and saves him from falling down a hole he finds himself increasingly slipping towards. 

It had been raining earlier that day, just after dawn. It left behind large dewdrops on the grass that when he arrived on top of the hill, the outsides of his boots were soaked. He noted that he had to polish it with wax it again later. 

_ Phasma. Hux. _

_ Phasma.  _ He bet she would have liked the new headquarters. She would have freaked out--in that silent brooding way of hers that matched his own because there had been actual beds. Somehow Holdo had convinced the crusty assholes in the Military Police to give them a higher budget, one that allowed them to get more than horseshoes and left-over crumbs. They even had running water in the barracks. And tea. God. They had  _ tea. _ Another month of drinking coffee and he would have pummeled someone. 

_ Hux _ , of course, would have found something to complain about. He could almost hear him quietly hiss that the water runs out before lunch, that the morning routines were useless because the arrangement of the exercises was out of order, and that the blades weren’t as sharp as they used to be. 

He wasn’t wearing his uniform, he had set it to the side earlier, hoping to find the time to sew the seams together. He couldn’t bring himself to request a new set, too embarrassed to admit that he grew almost twice in size since he started to get regular meals, even if it was just rations of bread as dry and crumbly as a cemented sidewalk and a stew of whatever meat they were able to scrounge. The seams had been crying for mercy, and it would only be a few weeks until he runs out of the original leather to somehow stretch it. He would tell Luke later when he’s exhausted with drilling the new blood and going through the mission reports. Maybe then he would stop mentioning to him how he grew to look exactly like his father. 

Because fuck if he knew what the thug Han Solo looked like. He barely even recalls his mother’s face and he  _ knew  _ her _ .  _ So why the hell does it matter that he grew taller than both of them?

He stops at the sight of another figure, almost fading into the shape of the trees because she was wearing her full uniform. In the distance, he could see the solid, clean seams and untarnished leather. Her boots were barely scruffed, her shirt perfectly pressed and her leather harnesses not biting into her white pants just yet.

Unlike him, she’d brought flowers. Picked from the meadows close by, he bet. None of them in the military payroll would be able to buy a bouquet from an actual florist. And she was new, very new. She probably arrived with the other recruits last month. Poe was blabbering something about having new assistants--ones who weren’t aware that they should probably stay away from him because being near Poe and his inventions probably shorten their lifespans considerably more than being in the Survey Corps. 

The white and blue wings of the Survey Corps look perfect emblazoned on her back. 

Her face was serene as she stood in front of a tombstone, lips moving so slightly that he almost missed it. She was reinforcing her promises, just like he should be doing. If only he could draw his eyes away. But his eyes were drawn to her scrunched up forehead, her sad eyes, the twin trails shining down her cheeks as she tried smiling. She laughed, just one broken choked up sound that made his chest hurt. Then she was folding herself down to hug her knees and touching the cold granite, like she could touch something beyond it. 

_ They’re gone. Let them go.  _

He forced himself to turn away, walking towards his friends. 

The sun was gentle on his skin, the breeze was lightly brushing against his shirt, tousling his hair so that it fell on his eyes. It smelled like the color green. 

“Phasma. Hux. We’re leaving again in a month. We’re going to try to map the Forest, yeah, the one with the big-ass trees. Holdo expects only a third of us would come back. It’s too far and we’re not going to bring that many carts this time. So I’m just here to say that I might not be buried here with you. Sorry. I’ll try to live, though. I hope you know that, wherever you are.” Because they already lived in hell, Ben was sure that there was a place better than whatever  _ here  _ was. Because Phasma and Hux deserved better than what they got _ .  _ Everyone did. Sometimes, he thinks he deserves it too. 

“Captain.” Stiff. Unsure. Too high. Out of breath. Did she run when she saw him?

The woman had her hand in a fist over her heart, her other arm behind her back, standing with her feet apart in the perfect parted v-shape. Her back was straight but not stiff, shoulders down and eyes pointed straight in front of her. It was a perfect salute. And she knew who he was. Of course, she knew who he was. She could probably spot him from a mile away. His ears burn under his hair. He'd hoped she wouldn't notice him

_ “Sir, good morning, sir.” _

“At ease, soldier. We’re not in the barracks. You’re not even supposed to be in uniform.” Uncertainty glitters in her soft brown eyes. She thinned her lips, plush and soft and pink. Her breaths are coming in shaky. Damn it. She was really pretty. Shit. He was shit with pretty girls. Or girls. Or people, as a whole. 

She doesn’t stop staring at him, what was she waiting for?

“Sorry, sir. I just didn’t expect to see you here today.” He raises an eyebrow. She stutters over her next words. “Uh… You usually come here on Tuesdays? Wait-- It’s because I’m assigned to clean your office on Tuesdays but the door is always locked and they never really let me in so--”

“It’s because I don’t like people touching my things. You’ll probably do a bad job at it too. Don’t worry, everyone else does.” She nods, drops her salute. 

“If I could ask a favor from you, sir? If that’s alright?” She fidgeted with the leather straps on her upper thighs.

“Call me Ben.” Her smile topples something inside his head. She smiles like a stubborn daisy who kept growing through a crack in a paved sidewalk. Even though he'd never seen it, he feels as though he'd found the ocean. His chest tightens like he'd been running uphill.  _ Damn.  _ He needed to get it together. 

“Oh--Oh, okay. Um, Ben?” He hasn’t even asked for her name. 

“Yes…?”

“Umm… Oh! I’m Rey.” 

“Rey…?”

“Just Rey.” _That_ _Rey. _So this was her. He's fucked.

“So,  _ Rey _ . What’s the favor?”

“They haven’t assigned us yet, so my squad leader-- Please don’t mention that I wore my uniform on my day-off? I just wanted to show my Mom--well, she’s not really my mom because Maz just--” She talks a lot when she’s nervous. Fidgets with everything she could get to with her hands. Quite the opposite of him, this one. 

She blushed when he raised both brows, playful. He can’t help but smile at her, just a little bit. 

“It’s alright, Rey. No one will know.” He says it like they shared a dirty secret. 

“Thank y--”

“I’m  _ your  _ squad leader anyway.” 

  
  


…

  
  


_ “You’re shitting me. Nobody gets assigned to the Solo squad. There is  _ no  _ Solo squad. Solo will probably quit the Survey Corps if someone messes up his kill streak. Or polishes his desk wrong.” _

_ _

_ “Well, there is now. They gave the trainees their assignments this morning. I wonder what Skywalker saw in her” _

_ “My squad leader was really surprised when she appeared here. She said that the girl had been a big thing back in Wall Sina. She used to be in the circus. The maneuver gear must’ve been a cakewalk for her” _

_ “She ran away with the circus?”  _ He heard the male voice lower as he passed by the mess hall. He mostly doesn’t care. But he stopped in his tracks as he carried his tray to the squad leader’s tables. 

_ “No, idiot. She’s here, isn’t she? She ran away  _ from _ the circus.” _

She’d been on the flying trapeze for most of her life, raised to be in the sky. 

She only trained a third of the time it takes other scouts. It took her all of two days to adjust her skills to the maneuver gear. 

One time he got Luke drunk enough, and he asked about her. She’d been sold off like cattle, her family from the underground city wanted to live a couple of blocks higher above, in the comforts of Wall Sina. The big top paid good money because she was lithe and strong. She could probably hang her whole body with a single grip. Whispers tell that that’s why she was given to him, she was the only one who could keep up with ‘humanity’s strongest’. Ben rolls his eyes. Or maybe Luke was tightening his leash. 

He saw how loyal she was to his uncle, how she stares at him like she’s taking mental notes to report them later. How she disappears randomly during lunch or dinner about two minutes tops and comes back like she’s just gone to the bathroom. He knew her habits well enough. She hadn’t even thought of wetting her hands. Once, he caught a shadow slip out of his window. He feigned ignorance, promised himself that he was too tired and would deal with it in the morning. He woke up the next morning to learn that one of his white cravats was gone. 

He tries to control the annoyance by abusing the punching bags in his training room. He’d gone through two of them in a week when she finally decided to intrude on his space. He didn’t stop his fists. Her glowing presence only served to fuel the fire inside him. Shit. 

“This is my room.”

“As far as I know, Captain, this is your squad’s room.”

She hadn't called him Ben since she found out that she was going to be in his squad.

“So?”

“I’m a member of your squad, too. It’s the two of us now. You’re not alone. Not anymore.” He stops. Looks at her. Really looks at her. Rey bites her lips when she realizes what she was doing. He was still vibrating with anger-- mostly at himself, and his fists were probably bleeding. He most probably smells like shit. 

She stares at him like she’s hungry. After days of skirting around her, ditching her during their assigned training schedules and even stooping so low that he started eating in his office, she probably wants a chance to pummel him. 

He mumbles, steps away, finds his towel and smothers his face in it in a show of wiping away his sweat. But really he just needs a reason to break from her gaze, even for a while. 

“Are you hiding from me, sir?”

“Why would I hide from you?”

“I don’t know, just a thought.” He turned to see that she was taking off her leather jacket, placing it on the bench opposite him. Next, she was taking off her boots, then her socks. When he breaks his gaze from her hands as she rolled her sleeves, he saw her smirking up at him. Well if she wanted to play, there was no part of him that didn’t want to play along. 

“You want to spar, sweetheart? You sure you can take me?” He takes off his shirt. It was too saturated that it wasn’t doing him any good anymore. And he didn’t want to give her more to grab. An opponent her size would always try grabbing to use his size against him. 

“I--” Her eyes were on the floor, the redness in her cheeks blending in prettily with the freckles on them. She swallows. He follows the movement of her throat. This was a fucking bad idea. But  _ God _ , he can’t stop. He stands in the middle of the mat on the floor, bends his knees slightly, places his right foot a step back and leans forward. He raises his hands in front of his body. 

“ _ Come here then, Rey.  _ Show me everything. _ ” _

“What?” The furrow in between her brows appears. Her blush deepens. She breathes as if she was running out of air. The little gasps of air that came out of her lips just spur him on. 

“Show me how you do it, then.” His hands twitch, ready to grab her the moment she stepped close enough. Rey watches his shoulders.  _ Good.  _ The shoulders rarely lie. She copies his stance. Rey steps forward, but some ways to the side--circling him.  _ Very good. _

She glances at his hands, at the way they keep moving in small circling motions. She looks up immediately, and now she was doing the same. He feints a forward step. She steps back with the leg facing his, angling her body away. Her gaze flickers to his. She was breathing so slowly now. 

_ “Good.” _

“Good enough for you?” Her little smile almost distracts him as she tries a step forward. His legs were longer, so when he steps back, there was more distance between them than there was before. 

“We’ll see.”

He angled his shoulders forward and her eyes followed the movement. When she leaned toward him, he grabbed her arm. Using his forward leg, he swept her off her feet. He tried to control her momentum so that she wouldn’t fall that badly on her perfect ass. But then she clung to him. With that little smile back on her lips. Damn it. She’d been baiting him.

“Fuck.” It slips out in a single breath. Rey breathes out a single huff of arrogance. It fueled very inappropriate thoughts in his head.  _ What would she sound like-- _

She used his momentum to drag him down. The pull led him to his knees, with one arm likely to be trapped. Usually, a person flat on their back should be helpless. Not really. Because now Rey had four limbs against him. 

So he broke her grip on his arm. If he’d been wearing a shirt, he’d be fucked by now. But Ben easily slipped his sweaty arm in a quick pull away from her. He drove his body forward, put his arms around her hips and placed his chest between, trapping her thighs above his shoulders and pinning her down with his whole upper body. 

She looked up at him, eyes glazed, lips parted. Hair had come out of her neat buns, and her breaths came out in pants. His head readily supplied images of the many other ways he could pin her down, and half of the blood in his body rushes down south. 

“Yield?”  _ Let this be over so he could lock himself in his quarters and breathe.  _

He leaned forward, grabbing an arm to pin her struggling chest with. But now that he left her legs slightly loose, she plants one foot on his hip, grabs his thumb with her right hand--fuck, her  _ grip _ \--and hooks her leg around his arm. Now stuck, he tried to pin her hips with his trapped hand. But she had been expecting that too so that when he lunged forward, she was putting her legs around his hips and using her weight to roll him in that direction.

Rey switched her grip, he hadn’t noticed that he had let her go so that she could pin his hand to her hip with her opposite hand. She sat on his chest, huffing. His other hand was uselessly holding her leg. An eyebrow raises. If she would smile victoriously down on him like this every time she pinned him down, he’d willingly spend his entire life with his back on the floor. 

She rolled her hips in such a way that he could feel the center of her heat through her pants settling on his abdomen. Maybe she'd been doing it unconsciously. His face heats. And now Rey was making him hold her hip with his trapped hand. Her head tilted. She blocked out the light, looking as if she had a halo. Fucking beautiful.

“Yield, Captain?” She liked it, being on top. 

“What?” She stretched herself out slowly, pressing her front to his, whispering in his ear. 

“Do you yield?”

“Uh--”

He feels her giggle rumble from her chest to his. Her laugh sets his heart on fire.

…

She’s good. She’s really good. 

Rey swung by his left, propelling herself forward until she leaned back so far that she flew by him upside down. She shot another line, just past his nose. She sticks her tongue out as she passed by, while he tries to fix his trajectory with another line so he won’t fall forty meters down. On his face. 

He hears her laughter somewhere among the trees. 

…

The next time she asks for a spar, he doesn't wait until she's in her fighting stance. In an actual fight, there's no waiting til your ready. He lunges for her waist and slams her on the floor. She yelped. He pinned her down with his left hand and grabbed her left wrist with his right. He pins her other wrist with the weight of his arm. She tries to struggle by bringing her hips up but he weighs down one thigh with his leg and traps the other flat to the floor by placing his left hand under her knee. 

She hadn't even had the time to take in a single breath. 

"Yield?"

She licks her lips. His eyes follow the path of her tongue. 

"My, my, Captain Solo, this is a very interesting position you have me in." She was distracting him. With her legs and arms trapped, she had no choice but to use her lower body to try gaining leverage. Higher brain functions abandon him as he watched her hips thrust upward. 

"Yield, Rey?" 

She stops struggling, curls her arms under his hold which curves her body up to his deliciously, smiling and relaxed. 

"Mm, maybe later. I kinda like it here." A devious smile curved at the corner of her lips. Fingers flutter in his grip. "It's very nice." She wiggled her hips.

With her legs taut and open like that, she should have been feeling uncomfortable. Then he remembered her circus training. He tries, he really tries not to think of the other ways he could stretch her body.

Rey folded the leg with his hand under the knee so that her foot could caress his shoulder. Her eyes twinkle as they flicker constantly to his mouth. She bites her lip.

"What're you gonna do now, Captain?"

He leans in. Soft lips. A tiny little intake of breath. His lips were an inch away from hers. 

Someone cleared their throat.

"Am I interrupting something?" Rey's smile fell, turning her head to glare at the intruder. Standing in the doorway with his hands behind his back and his stance stiff, Skywalker looked down at them with displeasure. 

Ben lets her go. It was probably time for her report. Luke narrows his eyes at him as he stands, protective of his favorite soldier. Rey shoots him an apologetic smile and he smiles sadly before he turns away, ashamed. 

He'd probably made her uncomfortable.

…

He shows up to the training exercises cold and professional, distancing himself. When he speaks to her it’s just to mention little things he learned beyond scout training, important things that saved his life numerous times outside the walls. He avoids her eyes, keeps his voice level at all times. Ben tries to ignore the fact that she looks so betrayed all the time. 

He adjusts her textbook stances to fit her height, makes her hit narrower and narrower targets, and teaches her how to fall. 

“The first thing I was taught was how to fall, Captain. Maybe it’s  _ you  _ who needs these lessons.”

He ignores it. Ben eats in his office. 

She kicks his door down. 

“What’s your goddamn problem, Solo?” 

She doesn’t let him finish choking on his tea before she pulls him forward by his cravat, glaring at him like some enraged angel sent by heaven to punish him for his sins. Her eyes looked green up close in this light. 

“Hey, shithead, answer me!” He schools his face into its usual cool facade. 

“What do you want, Rey?”

“I want to know why you changed? Did I do something wrong? Just tell me what I did wrong so I can at least work on it.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Rey. Nothing has changed.” The lie slipped from his tongue so perfectly that Rey looked like she’s about to cry.

“No. No, you  _ changed _ . When I talked to your uncle. We were almost friends, weren’t we? They said you were a real hard-ass but you weren’t like that when we first met and now you treat me worse than everyone else. What did I do wrong,  _ please _ ? Because I’m used to it but now I’ve never felt so alone.” She was clenching his cravat, trying to hold back her tears. 

“Rey...”

“Please."

Fuck it. Ben tugs his cravat from her but doesn’t let go of her hand. He steps around his desk to hold her in his arms. She buries her head on his chest. 

_ “You’re not alone.” _

“Neither are you.” She puts her arms around him, clutches at the back of his shirt like he’d run away the moment she lets go. He clears his throat, fighting the urge to bury his nose in her hair. 

“I’m really sorry for being a dick. I know you respect Luke and you’re just doing your job. But please realize that I overstepped professional boundaries several times before.”

“What’s it got to do with squad leader Skywalker?” She looks up at him like she can’t believe what he’s saying. 

“It’s okay, Rey. I know.”

“What exactly do you know?” The tightness in his throat was hard to swallow. He looks everywhere but her. 

“I know you work for Luke. I know you report to him about me. It’s okay, I understand he’s trying to be careful.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” She’s really pretty when she’s mad. 

“You disappear from the mess hall for a few minutes and come back with your hands dry. You stare at me like you’re taking notes. And I saw you sneak out of my room that one time.” She flinches at the last sentence. 

“Wow, you’re really observant aren’t you? I bet you know what I ate for dinner last night even if you ate here.”

“Rey you’re the only other person in my squad. Of course, I pay attention. And yes I know you stole two loaves and hid it in your room.”

“Our room.” She blushes. “Our squad’s room. If you actually slept there. But no, you’re trying to achieve back pains of a ninety-year-old man by sleeping in that chair. And no, I didn’t steal it, I asked Poe and he didn’t really answer me so I took that as a yes.”

“And no, I don’t work for your creepy uncle. I wouldn’t even stay in his office when he tried to give me the ‘we are here to save humanity and not do hanky-panky with our superior officers’ talk. Yes, he really tried. I told him I’d kiss you if I wanted to and he can’t do anything about it because he can’t lose me as a soldier. He pretty much backed away after that but, well, he’s still giving me the evil eye.”

His brain was still stuck on the kissing him part, so he didn’t know where his next words come from. 

“Then why do you disappear?” Redness creeps up her cheeks. 

“Uh... Well it’s embarrassing but there was a baby bird that fell out of its nest outside our window, and I feed it with the bread. Are you supposed to be feeding birds bread? Because I really don’t know.”

“I think they eat seeds?”

“Oh, shit. Well, it’s still alive. Anyway, I stole your cravat because I didn’t want to lose a bet. I’m sorry.” He raises an eyebrow for her to continue. “Well we were, uh, partaking in festivities--”

“You were drinking in the barracks.” She rolls her eyes. 

“--one time and Rose, you know her right? She’s with Captain Connix’s squad. Well, she dared me to steal one of your cravats. She said she’d give me one of the ham slices her mother sent her. It was really good if you have to ask.” She continued. “And I stare at you because you’re really pretty. Your shoulders are very... nice.”

“... Thank you?”

Ben realized he was still holding her. She did too, but then she just settled herself closer. 

“So, are we good? Or are there other things you want to accuse me of?”

“Are you trying to--” Fuck, he can’t say it. He’d probably die of embarrassment when she confirms that he’d been assuming the wrong things. She’d probably quit the Survey Corps. “No, it’s nothing.”

He doesn’t miss the way a naughty smile ghosted her lips before she settled on a straight face. 

“You think I’m trying to…?” He lowered his arms to try to run away, flee this room, flee the military and hide away in a basement--but she pulled him back tighter. 

“That you’re trying to--”

_ “Seduce you?” _ He nodded and then hurriedly closed his eyes, waiting for the moment the flat of her palm collides with his cheek. It doesn’t come. 

“Oh, so you’re not  _ totally  _ oblivious. I was wondering if I should write it out in a giant sign and make Commander Skywalker hold it. ‘Hear ye, Ben Solo. Rey of Jakku wants to get down and dirty with you’.” Well,  _ shit _ . 

“Jakku?” Grasping at straws, really. 

“Really? That’s what you focused on?”

“I’m trying not to lose it right now, Rey” 

“Oh, darling, you lost it ten seconds ago.” To illustrate her point, she rolls her stomach over where his cock was straining his pants. 

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

She laughs. Just like before. 

“Well, I guess you also find me attractive, yeah? Also, I’m perfectly okay with it.” 

“You shouldn’t be. I-it’s not proper for your superior to--”

“Oh wow you’re truly prim and proper, aren’t you? You’re blushing so much, Ben.” She laughs once and then her face falls. “Wait, wait--” Ben braces himself, knowing what would come next. 

“ _ Are you also a virgin? _ ”

…

The next day, Ben wasn’t sure if everything that happened wasn’t a dream so he ate breakfast in his office. He was sipping his tea and quietly debating if dipping his piece of toast in it would be worth it since in its current state it could pass as a brick. At least Rey had the manners to properly knock this time. He opens the door, locking it out of habit and goes back to his seat. She spots a chair at the corner of the room and drags it to the front of his desk. Ben winced at the sound of wood scraping wood. Rey pushes his things aside and drops her tray in front of his, plopping down on her chair. Some of the mashed potatoes--suspiciously piled too high on her plate--spills onto his deck. His eye twitches. 

“Good morning, Rey.”

“Well, good morning to you too.”

“What are you doing here?” The spoonful making its way towards her mouth worries Ben so much that he lifted his hand to stop her. Rey glares at him all the while she gobbles up her mashed potatoes. She starts talking with her mouth full. 

“Team bonding is important, Captain Solo.” She stuffs another spoonful in her mouth. 

“Slow down, Rey. Your mashed potatoes aren’t going to run.” The spoon freezes in her hand halfway towards her mouth. She suddenly looks so distraught, eyebrows curved down and her gaze cast to the floor. Her shoulders curve inward. Ben leans forward to hold her hand unconsciously. 

“Hey, I’m sorry. But you’re going to choke if you eat that fast. And I never really learned how to do the Heimlich.” She laughs, but then she still looks down. 

“It’s just--”

“You don’t have to explain, Rey.” She puts down her spoon and places her hand in his. The way her thumb caress his palm grounds them. 

“No, no, I want you to know.” She holds onto his thumb like a lifeline “You already know where I’m from, right? Good, yeah. Finn recognized me, he’s from Wall Sina but he escaped. Just like me. Anyway so in the Jakku troop we’re all handled by this circus master, Unkar Plutt. He takes care of us, so to speak. He gets kids from families in the underground, those who’re too hungry to refuse and then trains them to work in his troop. We train hard, perform hard. If you don’t make the cut as early as you can--” She shakes her head, wets her lips nervously. 

“I almost got cut once, when I fell too hard on my leg one time they thought I wouldn’t be able to walk again. It hurt so fucking much but I didn’t want to know what happens to those who get cut, so I forced myself to stand the next day and in three weeks I was flying. I still walk funny sometimes if you noticed.” He did. Her left leg steps more carefully than her right. It was more pronounced when she runs. 

“Plutt only feeds us enough to keep us in shape. If you fuck up in training, your portions get cut. If you fuck up during the show, you don’t eat for three days. When you fuck up real bad, he doesn’t let you drink water, too. I tried stealing from the food stores once, but everyone didn’t get to eat for a week when I wouldn’t fess up. So I learned to steal from the houses far from wherever we set up so I didn’t get noticed. Just a few loaves of bread or some fruits and even once a wheel of cheese. It was amazing. But I only steal stuff that the blessed people of Wall Sina wouldn’t miss. I didn’t want the military police on my case. Since Plutt wasn’t losing anything, he just let me.”

“I’m also very protective of what’s mine. So if you touch my plate, you’ll find something sharp pressing into your back tonight and your wires are gonna get mysteriously tangled. I know you know about my stash, Captain Solo. So this is your warning.”

“Consider me warned.” 

“So I told you one story. Now you tell me one of yours.” Ben retrieves his hand from hers. Her fingers follow for a bit before Rey takes her hand away. 

“I think we should eat first. It’s getting cold and you know how the stew tastes when it’s not burning your tongue.” Food or his secrets? Ben watched her weigh her options. It was quite fascinating to see her nose scrunched up as she picked up her spoon. 

“I’m eating, but you tell me after, alright? Promise?” She’s talking with her mouth full again. He just had to get used to it. 

“Alright. Now eat.”


	3. by design they shall not kill (as Petra/Levi, SnK pt. 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the continuation of the previous chapter! It's a bit more to take than the first one so yeah, please mind the tags. This was hard to write and I'm just glad it's over so I can cry in my corner. Thank you!

_ The only thing we’re allowed to do…  _

_ is  _ _ to believe that we won’t regret the choice we made. _

_ -Levi Ackerman _

When she showed up to training late and looking like a mess, Ben realized that she’d stepped up her game. Her hair was neat, and the loose leather straps around her legs and chest looked too intentional. Her shirt was untucked in a suspicious manner. Like she’d already done it perfectly then decided to pull at it to make herself more unacceptable. 

“Rey, fix your straps before I do it for you.” He hadn’t meant for the last part to come out. 

Her breath hitched. She doesn’t smile, but she stared at him like she would let her do whatever he wanted. He turned away. 

“Maybe you should.”

“Rey.”

“What if I fall?”

He let the words hang in the air until he was powerless to resist. He didn’t know what the fuck he was doing, but he let his hands lead the way. He knelt in front of her, hands shaking. He put his fingers under the leather that fit around the back of her lower leg, following it up until he arrived at her knees--pulling it up until it was taut. He held her at the knee and pulled at the buckle at the back of her thigh. Her legs shook when he tightened the buckles at the middle of her thighs. He looked up, but Rey was busy staring at his hands. He watched the pink of her lips as he adjusted the straps on her other leg. When his hands framed her waist, her face turned redder. He adjusts the buckle just above her core as slowly as he could, brushing her there with his knuckles as much as he can. 

Rey was barely breathing. 

He let his knuckles run up from her waist to her stomach, to the valley between her breasts and then the buckle just below her collarbones. He put an arm around her back, pulling her close and then tightening the leather until he heard her gasp. 

“All done.” He whispered the words right at her ear. Strands of hair on her nape flutter from his breath.

“You did a good job, Captain. Maybe I should make you tighten my straps all the time.”

She put her little hands around the leather straps just above his waist, pulling. 

“Careful, Rey.”

“Or maybe you should check them from time to time. Make sure they’re alright.” She ran her hands up and down around them. She plucked one and then laid her hand on his abdomen. 

“Hm. I just realized that we need to work on your discipline next.”

“I bet you can teach me, Captain.” Her voice turns breathless. “How to be good.” 

Ben spent way too long under the cold shower. 

…

  
  


He told her that he was from the underground cities, too. And that he spent most of life doing crimes worse than hers. They told him that his mother was a famous politician who fell in love with a smuggler. He remembered vaguely being happy with them. Then she died and his father disappeared. He ran from the people picking through the remains of their house looking for him. He’d been hungry for months until he got good at stealing. 

He got so good that other criminals started to follow him. They got better, they got organized--called themselves the Knights of Ren and used names they chose for themselves. It all went to shit when they stole maneuver gear from the military police, turning profits three times more. Since the military police couldn’t keep up, they called in the survey corps. Ben got cocky, arrogant. He didn’t know how much those in the survey corps practically lived in their maneuver gear. So Luke found them, cut their lines, pushed their faces in the mud and asked them to choose, jail or a pardon for all their crimes if they joined the survey corps. 

Luke told him he was his uncle. He said yes to have a chance to put a sword in his chest. 

Phasma and Hux followed him, the rest didn’t. Everyone knew that joining the survey corps was suicide. 

The first time they went out of the walls, it had been foggy and it was raining. They couldn’t see ahead of their faces. He lost them the first time they went out when he left them to take his shot at Luke. There had been a titan, smart and quick. It was night but it was moving. Everyone said that titans don’t move at night. 

It left a trail of soldiers’ body parts for him to follow. Entire squads had been eaten. He’d never forget the broken pieces he found them in. He sees the puzzle that had been Phasma and Hux every time he closes his eyes. What he doesn’t remember is how he decapitated that titan, only its eyes and how it looked at him when it bit Hux in half. 

_ “You have no room for regrets. Regrets will lead to fear, then anger. It will make you unbalanced that you doubt your every thought. This is the path you chose, Ben. Walk through it.” _

Rey doesn’t speak at all, just lets him talk and talk. She leaves very quietly too. Then she comes back knocking at the door of his office at the shit hours of the night to sit on his lap and cry about giant hands crushing her. They were leaving in two weeks and she’d been having nightmares and she was so fucking scared. 

“I dream about them and I haven’t even seen them yet. I don’t want to die. Ben, I don’t want to die.” The tears soak through his shirt. Her shoulders shake with the strength of her sobs.

“I won’t let you.”

“Don’t leave me, please...”

“I promise.”

He sleeps in the bed next to hers, then she curls up next to him at midnight. They drag two beds together so they could sleep in each other’s arms without her falling.

...

Three days later, he woke up at dawn to the sound of murmuring somewhere near. Fingers moved quietly to the knife he kept under the bed and stopped when he realizes that it was Rey. She had three lamps burning on the floor and her maneuver gear was spread out around her in several hundred pieces. 

She turned to him, smiled a bit. 

“Good morning.” He settled back down. His back appreciated the nights on the bed after being denied the privilege for so long. His eyelids turn heavy and he was almost asleep again when he heard Rey say something so softly. 

“What was that?” He got up, crawled a bit further because of the size of their connected beds. 

“If you could tie my hair back again, please? It got loose and it’s really itchy.” She put up her greasy hands. There was a large canvas laid out on the floor, and Ben walked on tiptoes to avoid the organized mess she nested in. 

“Oh sure, sure. Turn around.” Rey scooted a bit forward so he could sit cross-legged behind her. She rested her hand on her knees. Ben admired the beautiful mess that was her hair when he pulled out her hair tie. Her hair fell in russet waves. 

“Do you have a comb?”

“Yeah, but it's in the bathroom. It’s okay, just pull it away from my face.” 

He combed through the strands, but his fingers caught on several knots. He worked at them slowly but carefully. He suspected shampoo overuse. She needed to fix her conditioner schedule. 

“It’s okay, Ben. Just put it up again.”

“If I must remind you, I like being thorough.”

“Alright. Suit yourself. This feels nice, by the way.”

And because she couldn’t see him, he smiles. She sighed, shoulders dropping as he continued to run his fingers down her scalp. 

“What were you doing here? You know that it’s illegal to tamper with your gear.” As if he hadn’t touched his gears’ mechanics too. 

“Yeah, tell that to your propellers. I looked at your emissions, Ben. You exhaust your propellant gas way faster.” He started gathering her hair in one hand. She hummed in contentment whenever he pulled. 

“I’m way too heavy for the maneuver gear. I asked for bigger canisters but then they have to custom the whole thing. So I needed to compromise.”

“And your black box looks different too. There’s a red wire near your hip. It’s small and unnoticeable when you put it on but I saw it when you took off your gear once." He started twisting her hair into a bun, securing it with the hair tie. 

“The way the wiring is set up gets too hot because of the increased reeling speed. I just moved it around a bit.” 

“Will you let me see it? I probably wouldn’t wire it the same because I just want to correct my wire trajectory because mine gets inaccurate sometimes. We should have more engineers to fix simple issues like that. And in general, the locking mechanism is way too slow.”

“I tried messing with that before. Couldn’t get it to--” She looked at him over her shoulder. 

“Oh, I just bypassed the compressor.” 

Ben wanted to kiss her. 

...

“You said Maz Kanata was your mother, right?” Poe leaned way too close that Rey scooted over to him so close that she almost sat on his lap. Rey pulled her tray closer to herself. It was a mistake, abandoning their quiet hours eating in his office for this. But Rey had been adamant. She’d been missing  _ all _ the gossip. 

“Back off, Dameron” Poe rolls his eyes. 

“I’m just curious, Solo” 

Rey glanced up at him and a look passes between them. What it meant, they did not know. But it comforted them. 

“Wow, you guys have it real bad. Anyway, Rey, I’m really curious”

“At why I suck riding horses if my mother had been an equestrian?”

“Well, yeah. But don’t worry you ride well now” 

Ben drinks to hide his face in his cup. 

“Oh, Ben says so too” She says it in such a way that across from them, makes Finn choke on his coffee. Ben blushes so much that Poe notices and howls. He glares at Rey but she just smiles triumphantly in return. 

If only.

...

They were saddling their horses when Rey says something so quietly that he thought she hadn’t spoken. But he looked at her and she was staring at nothing, her hands frozen and curled on the horse’s reins. She was about two seconds away from a breakdown.

“Rey” He said it so quietly too. She turned slowly towards him, eyes glimmering and haunted. Ben patted his horse to make him stay put and then walked toward her. 

“I don’t want to go” 

“Rey” There was nothing he could do but say her name. If he took her in his arms, he didn’t know if he could fight the urge to just pick her up and leave. Leave all of this behind. They’ll run. Hide somewhere he knows Luke wouldn’t search in. They could live, he’s got enough saved for them to be comfortable for the rest of their lives. She could fix up machines, he could raise cattle. They’d live long. Maybe have children. If she wished it they’d be there, lying down on the grass in peace. But they both have promises to keep. 

Ben settled for placing her hand in his. She gripped it, grounding them both. 

“I know I promised Maz. But I don’t-- Ben, I can’t do this”

“Breathe, Rey. You’re here. I’m here with you” She does. In a minute she stops hyperventilating. He smiled at her sadly. Last night he woke her with his tears, dreaming something he can’t recall. The next time they wake, she was screaming into his chest, sobbing about waking up in a titan’s mouth. 

_ I was in there, Ben. I was inside and the teeth just snapped shut and I was sliding-- _

“Sorry about that” A sniff, a quick wipe of her tears. Her hands flew over her mare, going over every buckle at least twice. She patted the saddle nervously. 

“It’s alright to feel it. I’ve gone outside so many times but every time I watch that gate I want to turn around and go. But I’m with you, Rey. I’m with you wherever you want to go” A promise. An emerald field with white butterflies and a small stream. Peace that they can’t find here. Anywhere she goes, he’d follow. 

“No. I’m doing this. For mom, and for myself. I’m going to kick titan ass and then replace you as Humanity’s Strongest. If my parents still won’t show up after that, then it’s their loss.” She squeezed his hand before letting him go, going up on her tiptoes to slip her fingers through his hair. He’s got it tied back now so that it wouldn’t block his face while he’s in the air. Rey threaded her dainty fingers just before the hair tie. 

“Can I kiss you?” He wanted her to. He’d been desperate for it. Holding her every night when they slept with the kind of thoughts he’d had in his mind had been torture. But he can’t think about losing her now. Can’t think of her kissing him like she was saying goodbye. 

“When we get back, I’ll let you kiss me all you like”

“But I want to kiss you now. I know you’re thinking like this could be the last time. But I know we’ll come back safe. Kiss me so at least I can focus on that when we’re outside” Her face was much closer now. Their breaths were mingling and she was so warm. Ben tightens his arms around her waist so she couldn’t reach him. 

“We could lose each other out there any time. It’s better this way, Rey” He couldn’t look at her without breaking, so he didn’t. 

“No, it’s not. I’m not dying out there. You’re not getting rid of me anytime soon. I love you, Ben.” There was fear in her face, but determination and stubborn hope most of all. She wasn’t going to let him die. So he’d be doing the same. 

His hands shook as they cradle her face. He kissed her forehead, then a light peck on her nose. It was a simple pressure of his lips on hers, her softness on his. He couldn’t give her more just yet, but this, this was fine with her. She sighed, and arms tighten around him to hold herself up higher. He nipped her on her bottom lip.

“Come back and I’ll give you more” She looked at him incredulously. 

“Is that all?” 

“I love you. Don’t die”

...

By experience, Ben knew that nothing happened in the first three hours after they leave the gates. The formation was solid, even after the squads separated to cover more ground. The long-range scouting formation was basically a human radar, designed to keep them from encountering and engaging titans. Luke told him that before Holdo became commander, their attrition rate had been one to one. 

The signal flares had been sparse and constantly green, just orders to turn. The skies were clear and there won’t be rain anytime soon. He kept his eyes on the horizon, kept his eyes on Rey--riding just ahead. 

Back when he was by himself, Holdo had him accompany another squad, usually some important cargo, gas reserves or some kind of experimental weapon. Now they were central support, riding just far enough behind to keep the center cartography squad in sight. He sees green smoke up ahead and steers his horse. They were turning again. 

He locked a signal barrel into the pistol and fires it high in the air. Rey flinched slightly. 

“How long until the Forest?” Her voice was almost drowned out by the thundering of hooves. 

“Maybe another three hours, if we don’t encounter that many titans. Holdo wants us there before sunset”

“Why? The titans sleep at night don’t they?” Not actually sleep, just creepily stand there and do nothing. Ben remembers riding through them like they were great, big, groaning statues. 

“Not exactly. Most of them do. But she wants the cartography teams compiling their information as soon as possible” 

_ That night, with the rain and the fog. Giant red eyes and bloody teeth… _

Ben tightened his grip on his horse’s reins. Breathing deeply, he tried to focus on the rhythmic clops of his horse’s hooves and the wind rushing by his ear. Another hour passed in silence. 

When the fifth red smoke column--a squad encountering a titan--flew too close for comfort, the dread started seeping in. The titans were being spotted so closely together and they’ve changed direction way too many times. He bet that more than a handful of squads have had to engage. They weren’t in any kind of cover right now, so those would have a hard time using the maneuver gear in taking down their targets. 

_ “The lamps are new to all of us and the path is heavily infested, on top of that we’d be going through the trees. But this is the best way. This forest could protect us if there ever is a next expedition.” She sighed. “Our return rate would be terrible. It would be hopeful to say that half of us would come back.”  _

Holdo’s voice had been level as she sipped her coffee. It might be an additional two more hours before they’re under the safety of the giant trees. She would be getting worried. 

Rey fired the signal this time. 

A few hours later and they have the tops of the trees in their sights. 

A black smoke plume appears just behind them, and then another and then another until the whole east flank was a wall of black, and they kick their horses faster in case they needed to protect their cartography squad. If abnormal titans, either too big or too fast or too smart gets to them, the mission would be over. 

The plan was for the entire formation to go inside the forest, communicating with some special lamps that Poe and his new lab partner Rose, who could make her ideas work in her sleep, made after they made acquaintance a few months ago. The thick foliage made the smoke signals useless. Ben holsters the signal pistol and takes out the lamp. They entered the forest just after another red smoke column fires. 

“It feels like they’re following us” So she felt it too. Ben had never been one to ignore his instincts, but he tried to let Rey’s hope soothe his anxiety. He’d been feeling it up his spine the moment both flanks fired black signals. Rey slowed her pace so that they were riding side by side. The lamplights around them were constant points in the distance. 

“I feel it too. But Holdo isn’t ordering a retreat yet. We’ll have to see it through”

“Didn’t think I’d be terrified before the damn titans even showed up”

“Most of it comes before you see the damn fuckers. But fear is good. Keeps you attentive. Sharp. But don’t freeze. Never freeze. Because next thing you know you’re hurtling to the ground.”

“Did I tell you why I fell so badly that time before?”

“No. Just that you almost broke your leg”

“No. I really broke it. But I fell because some fucking numbskull tested the spotlights during practice. So yeah, don’t shine your lamp into my eyes or I’ll kick your ass”

“Are threats the only form of flirting that you know?”

“Shut up, Solo”

“Heads up” A pillar of light rose directly to their right then flickered erratically. Someone was pointing their lamp up. They’ve spotted another abnormal titan. Ben distantly wondered what it looked like. Was it crawling on its knees? Was it dragging itself on its belly? Did it have longer arms, a bigger mouth? He hoped it didn’t get into the formation. 

He pointed his lamp up and turned it on and off. 

Holdo’s light was a steady point on the horizon. They weren’t changing course. Meaning, there was nowhere to go.

“Why aren’t we turning?” Rey’s hand tightened on her lamp. 

“We can’t. There’s barely any path through the trees. We’ve been going as slow as we can. That squad just has to engage” Shadows grew longer. The sun was fading. The titans should have been less active at this time of the day. So whatever titans pursuing them were, they probably won’t stop until it ate them. 

“Do titans usually penetrate this close?”

“The whole fucking formation usually collapses after about two days. But we haven’t been fucked this early in a long time. I bet most the squads behind us are dead.”

“What the fuck, Ben!” Terror. And misery. The new scouts, most of her friends, were just behind the recon lines. 

They were entering paths with denser undergrowth, and their horses had a hard time maintaining their steady gallop. Ben rested more of his weight on the stirrups, ready to jump on the saddle in case he needed to shoot a line. In a few moments, their lamps would be their only source of light. Ben cursed Holdo’s name. Why weren’t they stopping? 

“Get ready to dismount, sweetheart. We’re gonna have to go soon.” 

Titans growling, and desperate, fading screams. Rey’s hands start shaking. 

“What’s going on?” He ached to hold her hand. 

But if he got unfocused now, they have less chance of surviving. 

“I’m distraction duty. You work on slicing the napes, got it?” All the lights flickered around them like fireflies just after the sun sets. Ben heard heavy thuds coming closer. Titan footsteps. Ben set his lamp to automatically flicker. She wouldn’t answer, busy taking deep breaths.

“Rey! Do you understand?” That seemed to shake her out of it. Rey jumped up to crouch on her saddle, balancing until he gave the order to engage. She didn’t look back. 

“Yes, Captain!”

“Only one order, Scout Just Rey.  _ Don’t fucking die _ ”

“Understood, Captain. You too.”

Ben fired a line, shooting himself up and turning in the air to finally face their enemy. Barely looking at it, he took stock of its general shape, gauged the length of its limbs and the way it moved. It ran towards them with limps on both legs, but the length of its legs made up for its weak strides. It was covering ground fast.

Unlike the general ugliness of most titans, the face and body of this one had been almost too horrifying to describe. The skin on its face was like melted wax pulled in various directions until it surrendered to gravity. Its arms were too long, its chest so thin that its ribs showed. But its legs were strong and thick. It screamed. 

It was holding a scout in each of its hands. 

The sun disappeared completely. 

_ “Finn!” _ He didn’t look back, but if he did he would see Rey panic and shoot a line to the closest bark to the titan’s right hand. She left her lamp on her mare.

The titan’s head turned toward her anchoring point. Ben’s heart raced. The titan noticed the line.  _ Shit, shit, shit, shit-- _

“Rey, it’s an abnormal. Pull back! Regroup!” Rey flew herself toward the hand, swords blazing. She shot another line to the titan’s wrist. 

The titan opened its grip to let go of whoever it had been holding. Its eyes followed Rey’s flight path. She fired another line on its front leg as it was taking a step, brought herself and her blades down straight through the titan’s wrist. The hand split and fell, bathing her in steaming hot titan blood. She follows the body down, catching it. 

It wasn’t Finn. 

Ben quickly shot a line just behind the titan’s head, shooting himself towards it, firing another line to the nape, spinning and slashing with his blades deep enough to kill it. The blood sprayed his entire front. The titan fell. Rey has just enough coherence to steer herself away from the falling body. 

“What the fuck were you thinking? Rey!”

A scream. Familiar even to his ears. She disappeared before he even noticed where she shot her line. 

_ “Rose!”  _

“Rey! Fuck, Rey! Come back!” 

She left him in the darkness. 

...

Heavy, lazy footsteps surround him.

Since Rey disappeared, it’d all gone to shit. He went back on his horse, trying to get back into formation. But then all the lamplights disappeared one by one, and judging by the screams and the silence that followed, the rest are probably dead. It had been a quick ambush. 

He ran his thumb on the rough sides of his hilts, probably rubbing his finger raw. The repeated motion was the only thing that kept him from screaming. It had been hours since he turned off his lamp. Because for some fucking reason, the titans were attracted to them like moths. He hoped Dameron was still alive so he could beat the shit out of him. They’ve been doomed since they turned those lights on. 

At first, it had been just one five-meter class titan. It saw him and ran to him like a toddler on wobbly legs, if a toddler could be as tall as a two-storey house. He’d disposed of it easy. Then two came, then five. He was running out of propellant gas and he was sure his horse and Rey’s would get trampled if any more of them came. So he sat on a branch twice as high as the tallest one, some fourteen meters tall, and tried to ignore the heat of the evaporating titan blood and the shit smell that bathed him from head to toe. He ignored their fingernails scraping on the bark to reach him for half an hour.

Then more came. 

When he figured out that the lamplight was leading them to him, he had switched trees twice and climbed so high it was making him light-headed. They stopped pawing at him. But they didn’t leave. 

The titans had been circling him for hours. 

Moonlight only enabled him to see their silhouettes, but he could almost swear that they were still looking at him. He ran his fingers on the rough rubber harder this time.

Closing his eyes didn’t help. He could still hear their footsteps, feel their phantom stares. Ben had been on expeditions more than a handful of times, killed titans more than he could count. But he’d never been alone at night before. Never been alone with the silence. 

Then the titans started speaking. 

_ “Little one in the tree” _

_ “Little one in the tree” _

_ “You are alone now” _

_ “Let go” _

_ “We trust you, Ben. Go. Get Skywalker’s ass” _

_ “Be quick about it. You know they won’t pay us the bounty if the Survey Corps kills us first.”  _

_ “I chose to abandon your mother, my own sister, because I thought it would be best for her. And then she died. Those are my choices. I learned to live with them. Now you must learn how to live with yours.” _

_ “Ben, stay here alright? Lock your door. No matter what you hear, do not go outside. I love you. Remember that. Promise me, son.” _

_ A last touch at the side of his face.  _

He screamed. Acid built up in his stomach and burned its way up his throat that he could taste it in his tongue. Ben threw his swords down, clutched his ears with his hands and pressed his tear-stained face into his knees. But he could still hear them, could still feel the urge to throw himself to the ground just to get it over with. He cried so his sobs were all that he could hear. 

_ “Ben!” _

Please, not her. Please, no. 

_ “Ben, please darling where are you?”  _

Not her. Anyone, please. 

_ “I need you to help me find you. Ben, show me where you are” _

Fingers find the lamp switch. The brightness hurt his eyes. There is renewed growling below him. The tree groans at the weight of them writhing against it. He feels nothing but acceptance. 

Would it help? Letting himself imagine hearing her voice? It felt like a balm on a deep cut, useless in the long run but  _ damn  _ at least it felt good. He turned his head to where he thought he heard her, a point of light dancing like a single lost firefly. He extended his hand to reach out like he could touch it. 

Rey’s face, illuminated only by moonlight and the twin lamps that they held. Enormous hands reach for her below but she was travelling too high up. 

“I can see you! Turn off your light!” And he does. He would do anything for her. Her light disappears too. 

She landed in front of him, hands flying over his face. In the dark, it was way too easy to pretend that he could feel her touching him.  _ Rey.  _ He leaned his cheeks on her palms. 

“You’re so cold. I’m sorry I left you. But I couldn’t leave Rose alone”

“Did you find her?” 

“Yes. She was hanging on a tree holding parts of their map. She was the last one left. Holdo is dead. But the map is done. We found Poe’s squad before we ran out of gas. I made them turn their lamps off. And then I stayed there until I could convince them to let me find you. They were sure you were dead. So I stole some gas and a lamp because I knew I’d find you.” All of her words faded, he was only listening to the sound of her voice, the tension, and the relief and the comfort that there was in every syllable. He pressed his head to her chest, held her close. This was just like their nights in the barracks, and he let himself disappear into it. 

“Ben, are you alright? Are you hurt anywhere? We have to get back to them as soon as we can. I brought gas canisters for you”

“I’m not hurt. I’m alright. We can just stay here”

“No, Ben, we have to get back. They could move and we might lose them” His Rey was talking too logically for his taste. Then again she was a figment of his own making, and she always had been sharp, so maybe this made sense in its own fucked up way. He laughed bitterly. He foolishly thought that this would give him some reprieve. 

“I love you, Rey. Don’t leave. Just until I can fall asleep, please”

“What are you saying? Ben, let me go, I need to make sure you’re not hurt” He didn’t let her go. Maybe his silence would convince her to stay quiet too. He breathed her in. It would be fine, he thought, if this would be his last moments. Real pathetic, imagining himself holding the woman he loves without her even replying to a declaration of his affections, but he’d always taken what was allowed of him. 

“It’s okay, Rey. This is fine. Just let me hold you. This is enough for me.”

“Ben, what are you saying? You’re scaring me. What do you mean?” There was a panicked edge to her voice. He could hear a hitch, the beginnings of a sob. She pushes at his shoulders, trying to get him to let her go. 

“At least it’s you, right? Not my mother or my father or,  _ shit--  _ Phasma or Hux” Rey started crying. She wrapped her arms around his neck, sobbing on the top of his head. Her tears are cold on his skin. 

“Ben all those people are  _ dead _ . You’re not making sense. I’m still here. Ben, I love you and  _ I’m still here _ . Wake up, please.” Her voice was breaking. He unwound his arms from around her and cradled her face, wiped her tears with his thumbs. He kissed her forehead. Gently. 

“At least it’s you. Just you”

“Ben, I’m here. Can’t you feel me? I’m not dead.  _ You’re  _ not dead. We promised, remember?” He stayed silent. Dawn would come soon, and the dream would shatter and then he’d only have two choices. He already knew what he would choose. 

“Don’t look at me when I do it, alright?” A fresh torrent of tears floods her and she is unable to speak. She clutched at his shirt, shook him like they were back in their room and he was in the middle of another nightmare. Maybe he was. 

She took his hand, kissed his knuckles and pressed it to her chest. Right over her heart. It was beating so fast so desperately. Like it was saying something and he wasn’t listening. After long moments, after so long:

_ “It’s you”  _

“It’s me”

She kissed him. She tried to, anyway. Her lips landed just above them. They find each other. Ben laughed with relief and she did too and they’re kissing and laughing and God, he was so happy. They’re still fucked but he’s so  _ happy _ . 

“Please don’t do that again. Don’t leave me like that” She pressed her forehead to his, kissed what she could reach, hands tight on his hair. 

“You left first.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“I understand. I know you love them too. I’m sorry too. If this-- I swear I would wait for you, Rey. However long you need to find me”

“I’ll come back for you, okay? I always will”

She kissed him again. They kiss until the stars disappear. They hold each other as the sun rose. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the happiest ending I could give this because twitter voted that I couldn't go full angst. Hehe. The chapter's name is from a song, The Whisperer by Sia. I listened to it while I cried writing this. Also, yes Heimlich exists in this au so... yeah! Thanks for reading :)


	4. oh, poor atlas (as Kaya/Kyouhei, MS)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being a secretary bites.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *peeks* Uhh... so yeah here's where I start bringing in my... spicier manga choices into the mix. Part 1 of I'm not sure how many parts of this yet. This is a Midnight Secretary!au, where Rey serves as vampire!Ben's personal everything *wink wink*. Here be the spice.

_ The moon was once a child, _

_ son of starlight and meteors, _

_ destined to fall in love with the sun. _

_ The universe laughs. _

“Ms. Johnson, you’re to be assigned as Director Solo’s personal secretary. Will you accept?” Phasma, head of the First Order secretarial office, looks up from her laptop. Though she usually looks like she’s a second away from arching a brow in derision, this time there was a pleading quality to the way she looked at Rey. The meeting room was quiet, the very air holding its breath as they wait for her answer. 

Like she would refuse an opportunity like this. 

Rey wanted to roll her eyes, but she learned to keep all her habits in check while she’s at work. Overhearing gossip about her twiddling thumbs once was enough for her to purge them from her system. 

“Yes, Ma’am” Everyone else heard it like she was pounding the last nail in her coffin. 

Maybe because she just did. 

Rey was told to box her things immediately after the meeting. Carefully labeled piles of binders and boxes of files migrated out of her small cubicle from the common room of the secretarial office to the top floor, just outside the Director’s office. Gone were her giant panes of glass that looked out to the blue sky and the glimmering skyscrapers, the chatter, the fake corner plants. 

The new cubicle was roomier, angled and sleek in a way that matched the black and red aesthetic that Director Solo had going on. The windows were still huge, but they were tinted as dark as possible. It made the miniscule world below pass by in greyscale. Such a shame, since the view from here, was fantastic. Her hands grip the last of her boxes, her personal effects and the tiny pot of lithops that she kept on her desk--a gift from Maz when she got accepted into the company two years ago. The original sprout has long outlived her adopted mother’s expectations--the succulents had a tendency of just _ dying _\--but two sprouts lived in it now.

_ “I’m prouder that the thing is alive more than you getting promoted three times, darling. I thought they were just cute starting decoration. But when are you going to leave that company? It’s not been the same since Resistance--” _

“You know that I’m obligated to tell you that he’s not as bad as they say, right?” Phasma’s voice breaks her out of her reverie. They stop just before her designated station. Her place, for however long she’s allowed. Director Solo had a reputation of running through personal secretaries like sheets on a memo block. But Rey’s determination often overshadowed sense and caution, and so right at that moment, she swears. Solo was _ not _ going to getting through to her. He wouldn’t scare her off, no one ever has, and she would stay at her station as long as she likes.

“I’m alright, Ma’am. I know what to expect.” 

“Oh, _ honey _ . Whatever you’ve heard isn’t even half of it. I made it out of my turn barely alive. Do you know why I worked my ass off to head the secretarial office? Because I didn’t want another.” Her hands grab the glass panelings of Rey’s desk, eyes horrified but kind. In a way that was ‘I’m sorry you’re going through this but _ dear God, _ at least it wasn’t me’. 

“I admire your determination, Rey. And I’m still stunned by your capacity and work ethic. But when it gets too much, you tell me all right? I know it’s strange to hear it from me but we’re here for you”

“This is sounding more and more like I’m off to war”

“You kind of are. But you’ll tell me, all right?” 

“You know me, Ma’am. He’s nothing I can’t handle”

“I hope so, Rey. Good luck”

“Thank you for this opportunity” Phasma sighs. 

“He’s inside. Introduce yourself when you’re ready.”

Phasma smiles at her, then turns and walks away as fast as her long legs could stretch. She disappears in a blonde blur. Turning to her new post, Rey sighs and sits. The faux leather cushions sigh along with her. 

Right. 

They’ve already transferred the Director’s schedule to her, along with meticulously arranged data inside one giant file that ate up about a terabyte of her work cloud. Her computer, so new that it even had bits of the packaging plastic that it came here with, was probably the only one in the whole building that could handle the workload she was about to burdened with. Rey’s fingers itched to comb through all the nooks and crannies of the software, even the hardware if she was allowed. The processor inside must’ve been new, maybe even experimental--First Order Tech sometimes lets employees test out the new stuff and it’s one of Rey’s favorite things working here. One of three on that list. The other two are free snacks in the break rooms and Finn. 

Oh, Finn would _ hate _hearing about this. 

Him being in this company was the leg up she needed to be hired since Phasma liked him enough that she considered her application. And he totally despised Solo. Down to the bone marrow, he said. He’d been on-site with him once to oversee a launch and they’ve only interacted three times on that fateful day but that had been enough for Finn to put up Solo’s name on his shit list. 

_ “Since you’re new, they won’t put you anywhere near him for a while. So that’s a thing you don’t need to worry about right now.” _

Sorry, Finn. 

She’d send him a message later. 

_ You must believe. _ Rey swallowed her fears, concentrated on the words she held closest to her heart. She won’t let her favorite animated turtle down. _ Master Oogway, this is for you. _

She picks up her tablet, smooths down her unwrinkled skirt and stands. Her heart doesn’t skip on the ten steps it took to get to the door, or the three knocks she does or the deep, rumbling voice of assent that sends her inside. But it does when she sees him. 

Perfectly tousled hair that looked like it was styled by a lovely night of romping on the sheets, dress shirt sleeves neatly folded near the elbow, fingers idly flipping through the sheets that currently have his focus. Big hands, even bigger man. _ Damn _those are thick fingers. How does he even find the time to go to the gym when as far as she knows, he spends all of his free time plotting how to absorb the entire industry into his company? The white gold watch on his wrist, probably worth more than her expenses for the entire twenty-three years of her life, fit snugly around his wrist. The suit jacket carefully placed on his leather chair could probably set her for life. 

She could probably lie down on his desk and still have room to toss and turn. Why a single man needs this much space to himself, she doesn’t know. His office was larger two times over than the one that housed the entire secretarial office, hell, larger than most of the meeting rooms--but his looming presence dwarfed the entire space. He caps his ebony fountain pen with a grace unexpected in a man as built as him and doesn’t lift his eyes as he reaches for another folder. 

His voice was dark and cutting, already on the edge. Rey doesn’t flinch when he throws the folder he was holding, the force sliding it right in front of her heeled mary janes. Half the rumors she rolled her eyes at privately have all been proven true.

“You’re the new secretary? Take that downstairs and tell them that we are First Order Technologies. Capital F, O, and T. Fire whoever made that poor excuse of a requisition order. And all those that allowed _ it _to grace my desk.” His eyes flit quickly over her body, taking stock of the sleeves up to her wrists, the buttons closed until her throat, her tightly coifed buns, and the non-prescription glasses perched just so on the bridge of her nose. His eyes don’t linger longer than they need to. Which was fair, since she’d already scoped him out earlier. 

Rey puts her knees together, carefully lowering herself with as little slouch as possible to get down and pick up the folder. Proper as a lady who went to finishing school. Which she did not--she learned this particular move from YouTube. She passes her hand over the sheets, removing imaginary dust, eyes flying quickly down the whole thing. 

_ “Ah.” _ The Director raises an eyebrow, tilts his chin and leans back. He lets her continue. “The new requisitions format. Sir, it’s only been put up on the company cloud this afternoon.” She flips through the pages even though she’d already memorized the content. She walks toward him. “Which I know because I received the notification, same as everyone. We’ve all instructed to use it instead of the standard format that’s been present for about a year because apparently, the logo was off two shades darker from the style guide. The capitalization error was caught four minutes after it was sent out, which was regrettably enough time for this to slip by and reach your desk, Director. This request for--” She flips a page for show. “--new blinds for the fifth floor, is perfect. Except for that pre-formatted text on top and the debatable comma at the last sentence.” _ Is this a good chunk of your workload? Checking files meant for departmental managers’ desks for capitalization errors? _

She closes the folder, holds it with two hands. He watches her with unreadable eyes. Rey stands a foot from the edge of his desk, close enough for her to feel the entirety of the heat of his gaze. She doesn’t back down and looks at him straight in the eye. 

“I understand that even requisition orders must be reviewed from time to time, but things like this could be passed off to your secretary, Director. If you’d take me.” His jaw works, his eyes narrow. 

“I’m pretty sure I already told my secretary to go downstairs and do her job”

“And her job is to make sure that your time is being used effectively, sir. How about letting me handle this, say let me e-mail Mr. Watto and settle this matter, and I’ll have the corrected document on your table in ten minutes. That way we don’t have to interview for three or four new employees before the day ends?” She smiles, in that sweet secretary way that was submissive but warned the receiver that she held the passwords to all their accounts. Solo sighs dramatically and waves a hand in the air. She catches the slight twitch at the corner of his lips. 

He’s amused. Maybe even a little bit impressed. 

He pushes the entire stack of paperwork on his desk towards her. 

“Then look through this and prioritize the ones I need to see. Handle the rest. You see that filing cabinet over there?” He points but she only turns to appease him. She already knew where everything was. “The one before you did a shit job at arranging the files. Sort through it and label the folders numerically. That’s my wardrobe, door to your left. I use it often, so make sure to handle the laundry every other day. And run me through my schedule for today”

So she does. 

“--and you have a meeting in about twenty-eight minutes. With Ms. Barada at the Colossus Hotel.” When she looks up, Solo was staring intently at her. He was resting his chin on the back of his hand, leaning forward with his elbow on the table. He was very close. Rey slows her breathing to keep her chest from racing.

“I trust that you’ve already heard of my habits, yes? Do keep track of my women, Ms. Johnson. Wouldn’t want to confuse the heiress of the Hutt Empire and the princess of Corellia now, don’t we?” Rey mentally ran through her entire curse word dictionary before she smiled.

“Understood, Director. Do you need me to call Ms. Barada here? She’s already in the lobby.” 

He stands, stands and stands. Rey’s neck angles back way too far so she could keep looking him in the eye. He could probably wear her as a scarf. 

“No need, Ms. Johnson. As it is, you’re the only woman allowed in this room. Keep it that way, won’t you?” 

  1. Do not let his women meet.
  2. Do not let them into his office. This was his mancave and by Jove, he needs it _tidy_. No girls allowed. 

He unfolds his sleeves. Her eyes strain as she tries to keep them on his face and not on the way his shoulders roll or his forearms flex. _ God, if this is my punishment for stealing Finn’s yoghurt, I’d gladly replace it tomorrow. Just. Please. _He fastens his cufflinks, then reaches for his suit jacket. Rey wasn’t breathing anymore. She can’t. He was too close that she’d already smelled his cologne. Something spicy and cold. She curls her toes in her shoes to keep herself from stepping away. 

“I think I’ll keep you, Ms. Johnson. I hope you’re ready” His eyes narrow teasingly. Rey swallows, just once. His eyes flit over her throat. 

“Always, Director Solo. Do you need anything else from me?” 

“No. _ Not yet _” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title from the goddesses themselves, Florence + The Machine, lyrics from "What the Water Gave Me"


	5. the arms of the ocean, so sweet and so cold

Ben Solo was a man hard to please, but most of Rey’s existence has been spent learning how to please people. So this was not that much of an adjustment for her. 

He has strange working hours, noon to late at night. Alright, she wasn’t much of a sleeper anyway. He can’t go to meetings at noon for whatever reason. Okay, since the rich and powerful are entitled to their eccentricities, mere humans just have to comply until they gain the backbone to overthrow capitalism. She also wasn’t allowed to spend more than twenty minutes in his office. Alright, since she hates his guts anyway. 

But working for him hadn’t been different than what she already did working for the secretarial office. Maybe there’d been an increase in the workload, but that’s it. She doesn’t even see him that often, maybe about a handful of times in the single month she spent working for him. Most of the time it was just his voice on the intercom right next to her cacti. ‘The file on Sphere Comms, I need it in an hour.’, ‘Ms. Castania is coming by this evening, make the necessary arrangements.’, ‘Set up an appointment with Director Hux, I need to clarify why he feels the urge to hog over the company broadband for his idiotic project.’, have all been met with a clipped ‘Yes, Director’. 

The only thing she hated doing is arranging his ‘arrangements’. Since Solo apparently had all the time for women while simultaneously not having any time for them, she had to schedule his dates, research his women and cross-reference his previous offerings in order to give them the appropriate gifts, and then afterward when he’s done with them, she had to inform them of the break-up by message too. Thankfully, it seems that their interactions were not very invested either so she didn’t have to deal with shrieking on the phone or women dressed to the nines harassing staff at the lobby. 

He waltzes out of his office with a different coat, black leather gloves, and tinted glasses each time to meet his flavor of the month, and Rey has to sigh and wishes that she could have longer break times so she could go down to Finn’s floor to complain about her boss being such a whore. It wasn’t that it bothered her that much, how he chooses to spend his time and with whom and how many is up to him. She just wishes that she wasn’t so _involved. _It was exhausting how many beautiful, educated heiresses and princesses she had to send the template _‘Mr. Solo sends his regards. He wishes you happiness.’_. 

And so, here she was in his office again, placing three binders full to bursting right next to his afternoon coffee. Well, that was one thing she didn’t need to do for him. The one stereotyped secretarial duty she asked Maz to teach her how to do, how to perfect a cup of coffee for your boss, was a skill of hers he didn’t see fit to make use of. 

_ “Touch my things only if absolutely necessary”  _ As if she doesn’t wash her hands or something. Yes, she was found in a junkyard, but Maz has taught her maximum hygiene--an art only a woman originally from a tropical country could have taught her. Washing your hands in between while cooking dinner and all that. 

She also noticed that he would hold his breath around her sometimes, too. Fucking asshat. If only her cat allowed perfume, she would put on some. But because he pissed her off, he could choke on her if he wanted. 

So, when she started walking away to comply with the twenty-minute rule, she didn’t expect his voice, weak and soft,

“Mitaka is downstairs with a package. Please bring it to me immediately” He was leaning back on his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose and breathing slowly. He looked pale. They’ve been working overtime for about two weeks now, and for once he looked as tired as he should be. He hadn’t even disappeared to a date with anyone he was currently seeing because they’d been so busy. They were churning out so many reports the poor printer sputtered ink on her skirt twice now. She was suspecting he was something of an inhuman monster until today. 

“Yes, Sir”

“Immediately, Ms. Johnson” He was clenching his fists and he looked like he was in terrible pain. She wanted to place the back of her hand to his forehead to check if he had a fever but she was sure he already knew that he had. So she went downstairs as fast as his elevator would allow and met with Mitaka, his chauffeur. 

The man was standing in front of the desk, suited, poised, and holding a black bag. Trust Solo to house his paracetamol and water bottle in a patented leather Givenchy. If Rey didn’t know that he drove Solo around, Mitaka could have passed for the numerous too-important, too-rich bastards who worked for the First Order. But though he wore a suit not meant for the consumption of middle-class citizens and drove around cars only presidents and other heads of state could afford, Mitaka was soft-spoken and courteous. He hands Rey the bag, careful of his white, leather-gloved hands. What was it about Solo and leather?

“Please take this to the Director as soon as possible”

“Yes. Thank you, Mitaka, sir.”

“Just Mitaka is fine, Ma’am. Or Dopheld if you don’t find yourself averse to it. But personally, I prefer my last name.”

“Then, Mitaka it is. You can just call me Rey, also. We’ve done enough chores for Mr. Solo that we understand each other spiritually by now.”

He laughed at that. 

Then his phone rang the moment his hands were free, and he gave a wave in a short goodbye as he took the call and started walking away. The bag was surprisingly hefty, and when Rey pressed it to herself to free her other hand to punch the top floor button into the elevator console, she felt the vague shape of an insulated water bottle. Apparently Solo just needed his chicken soup. 

She punched in the combination to Solo’s office door, but as per his instructions, she knocked before entering. 

“I’m coming in, Director. I have the bag from Mr. Mitaka--”

“Leave it by the door” He was growling now. It surprised Rey that she didn’t feel scared at all. In fact, she was feeling something else. Something dangerous. She cleared her throat. 

“Sir?”

“Just nudge it inside and leave it there, Ms. Johnson.” 

“Okay” She opened the door as little as possible and scooted the bag inside. Then she closed the door with a click. 

Rey returned to her desk in the continuance of her contribution to the industrial destruction of humanity. Somehow she stretches Solo’s ten-hour shifts to something that makes sense in regards to his workload. Assholery aside, she has to admit that he worked harder than anyone she ever met. His output is so spotless she barely reads through his reports before she sends it up. She still does read through them, though. And the one time they were in disagreement was about his usage of the oxford comma. Or his non-usage of it. Their debate on the petty grammar misunderstanding didn’t last long though, because he kicked her out the second her twenty minutes was up. She had rolled her eyes before she not so gently closed the door.

She was in the middle of a very long e-mail correspondence with one of the department heads to talk him down from his threat of resignation due to Solo’s ‘toxic, oppressive meddling’ when there was a sound of a crash so loud she heard it through the heavy wooden door. She shot up immediately and went to the door to knock. She was punching the combination into the door lock when she heard, 

“No, Ms. Johnson, don’t come inside” His voice was so strained she was surprised she could make out the words. 

“Are you alright, Director? You sound hurt. I could help” She had a bit of emergency training. If he slammed his desk to the ground and he cut his hand, she could stitch it up. 

“No, no don’t. I can handle this” Which sounded like something a man would say to protect his pride so she swung the door open. 

Rey, being in the proximity of one of the most hostile and gluttonous companies out there, has seen a lot of things that normal people should not have to witness. Solo’s work computer in pieces on the floor was something she has expected. She’d heard tell of his temper, everyone on this building has. His chair was lying on its side, purposefully thrown or accidentally overturned she did not know. 

But what she did not expect was Solo on the floor, grasping the edge of his desk and clutching his tie like they were his last tether to the earth. He had turned off the lights, so she could only see his outline from the muted lights that came through his windows from the city below. It made his eyes look as if they were glowing in the way Beebee’s--her cat--would when Rey sees her in the dark. The thermos she brought in earlier had been thrown, spilling its dark contents on the floor. 

There was a strange smell. Something tangy, metallic and out of place.

“Ms. Johnson,  _ get out _ ” He was coughing like he wanted to spit something out. She approached him carefully. The hairs at the back of her neck were standing up and her heart pounded. She felt the danger, yes, she had a healthy sense of self-preservation that told her to just obey and get the fuck out. But there was something about Solo, with his glorious bastard self, being on the floor vulnerable and in pain that made her unwilling to leave him alone in this state. 

“What happened here?”

Blood. That was blood she was smelling. It was all over the floor. 

Director Ben Solo had been drinking the blood. It was there in the corner of his lips, the front of his pristine white shirt stained red. Either he was a freak or she was crazy. She stepped forward. 

“Ms. Johnson,  _ please _ . I can’t think around you. Get out before you regret it.”

Her ears started to ring. There was a heaviness all around them, something that pushed and pulled until they were both helpless to resist. 

“Are you sick? What’s going on? I can help you get to the hospi--”

“For fuck’s sake, Rey. You’re the smartest person I know. You know you’ve figured it out. Please get the fuck out and call Mitaka and tell him to bring me blood that  _ hasn’t  _ been taken  _ unwillingly _ ”

“What are you- Director?” She was shaking now. Because he has moved, crawled away like being near her burned him. She was scared and confused, but he needed her help. She just knew he did. 

“Please, Rey. I don’t know what I’d do if I hurt you. Please, just-”

And suddenly it all made sense. Or did not, depending on one’s point of view. The hours, the sunlight allergy, the women. It can’t be real. The Director cannot be a-- 

_ Say it, Rey. Say it.  _

Her boss cannot be a fucking vampire. Because they did not exist. Rey did not believe in a lot of things. Luck was for fools. Prayers were for the desperate. And fate was something to appease our never-ending search for meaning even though we know that there’s none to be found. But there he was, the mighty Ben Solo on the floor, holding himself because he was a fucking vampire and she was made of a large percentage of blood. She swallowed. He looks up and his eyes follow the movement. She sinks to her knees in front of him. He closes his eyes, jaw working. 

“I could call one of your-”

“No. Do not let anyone else in.”

“What’s wrong with the- The blood- That Mitaka brought you?”

“I can taste it, Rey. I can taste the pain. That blood was taken from a child and they’d been so  _ scared. _ I know you think me a monster, but I don’t stoop that low”

“So you take it from the very willing?”

“Yes. They don’t remember and I don’t leave marks. Are you here to question my methods? Do you prefer me to skulk around dark corners and take random passersby?” Only he would look so beautiful angry and desperate in the low light. He looks down at her as if she’s dinner that wants to disagree with being so. He looked so  _ hungry _ . 

“How can I help?” To which he closes his eyes and takes as deep as a breath he could take. When he opens his eyes, there was a dangerous gleam in them--the shine was not something she imagined. His eyes were slitted and they were glowing. 

He looks unhinged. 

“Are you offering, Rey?” He starts to crawl forward, stalking her slowly. She is suddenly reminded how small she was, how very easily he could pin her down with his weight. She should have been disgusted with her thoughts or scared that her boss wants to literally eat her. But instead, she feels a warmth curling and pooling in her core. Somehow she knows that if she says no, he would back off. The high of that power stoked something deep and dark inside of her. She watches his lips as they move. 

“Would it be enough? If you drank from me?” Her voice soft, soothing and unfamiliar. 

“Fuck- Yes- Yes, Rey it would really help me  _ not die _ if you let me drink from you. But then if I taste you-” He was breathing from his mouth, lips open. His fingers twitch, aching to touch. He was looking at her neck, now. “I already can’t think when I smell you if you touch my damn coffee mug. So yes, this would be a bad idea and the  _ best  _ idea.” Rey wasn’t following, because he was crawling over her and eclipsing the light, plunging her in his shadow. She leans back in response. He angles himself so he can breathe her in without touching her, taking as much of the scent of her neck from the immediate air above it. Rey tilts her head in offering. As if he couldn’t help himself, his hands grasp her hips. 

“Would you let me, Rey? Will you let me bite you?” She raises her hand to his shoulders, clutching at his shirt. A shiver runs up her spine. 

“Do you need me to beg?” 

His lips touch the skin just below her ear. Softly. So softly. He runs his nose and mouth over whatever skin was available above her collared shirt. 

“Can I unbutton your shirt? I need--” Rey was already untying the silk ribbon around her neck, then unfastening the first three buttons from her neck and parting her shirt. Bolstered by her eager assent, his arms wrap around her, a hand weaving through her hair just enough that the tightness of her buns and his fingers pull at her scalp so deliciously. 

“Thank you” He kisses the skin she exposed. Then licks it. Rey’s shoulders curl around him. He presses her tight against him. Her breath comes out in a soft mewl. He growls. 

His fangs sink into her skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title again from Florence + The Machine, "Never Let Me Go" this time. Do you see this trend? Is my undying love for them so obvious? Find out at 5


	6. offer me that deathless death

Rey wished she could tell herself that what happened, happened quickly. That in reality, all of it could have only taken a little less than five minutes. That after, he remembered that he was himself and she was just her because he had drawn himself away, wiped his mouth and stared at the smudged blood on it liked it was something disgusting. He fixed his tie, licked his chops and chewed on his lips. And then he sent her away. 

“Thank you, Ms. Johnson. You can leave now.” Never had she felt so devastated.

Used. She felt so fucking  _ used _ . 

She wanted to punch him in the face for making her feel that way. But she had been feeling so confused, so hurt, that she couldn’t stand being near him anymore. So she swallowed her tears, nodded weakly and scrambled the hell out of his office. She sat on her chair in crippling despair, hating him, hating herself and then just… nothing. She looked at herself, at her open blouse and her missing silk ribbon, with a bit of the black lace bra she bought last month after she got the promotion peeking out. It was true. His teeth left no marks. There wasn’t a drop of blood on her. 

She buttoned up her blouse, wiped the single tear that she couldn’t have stopped and then--continued working. 

Never again. She vowed to herself. Now she knew what this was, what  _ he  _ was. Never again would she give him the opportunity. She thought about leaving, or about suing his ass, but she’d been willing. Very willing. And if she left then she’d just feel like he won everything and if Rey was anything, she was a very sore loser. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of having shaken her up. No, Mr. Solo. You’re not winning this one. 

She patted her lithops and then furiously went over his calendar. She would schedule his ‘meals’ more efficiently. Force him to go on his dates so he won’t miss a single one. If he hated the taste of her blood, having been used to his premium women, she wouldn’t give him the chance to taste her apparently second-rate offerings. So they’d tasted better. Big deal. 

_ It’s Jakku Special, darling, and you will never have it again. _

After three hours, a few minutes after the end of her shift, she sent him the slightly altered schedule, grabbed her worn-out bag, and left. Only in the privacy of their home, after checking if Maz was already asleep in the next room, did she press her face into her pillow and let herself cry. Just that once. She let herself have her grief just that once. 

But her dreams offer no comfort. 

_ His hand spanned her entire waist, clutching her to him like he couldn’t breathe and she was his atmosphere. His teeth latch onto her skin, his tongue passing repeatedly over the wounds that he made to drink her in. His arm was hard around her back, but his lips were so soft. The movements of the hard planes of his chest matched every breath, every suck. She moans. The hardness on her thigh was unmistakable.  _

_ “Rey...” He moans her name against the skin of her neck.  _

_ She was floating. Fingers reaching for something only he could give. His hands were there, grasping hers. He was taking something from inside her, something that floods into him and melds them together. They blend into each other, thoughts blurring as their souls twist together, building towards ecstasy.  _

_ He lifts his face, her blood on his lips. He looks even more ravenous.  _

She wakes with her hands down inside her sleeping shorts. Her body was hot, and she was wet beyond her understanding. But now that she had started, mind blurred by the haze, she had no choice but to finish. Her fingers move, thinking of the way she fit in his hands. The way he groaned with every sip. What would it be like, if he held her? She whispers his name into her pillow. 

Fuck. 

When it was over, she was sweaty and deep in regret. She can’t believe that she came to the thought of her boss. And his fangs. Damn him. She showers twice. And because she wasn’t sure how sharp his sense of smell was, she washes her hand five times. She repeats her entire curse word dictionary, this time out loud. Punctuated with his name in between. 

She got out of the shower steaming and renewed, then opened the drawer to her lingerie collection, her most expensive habit. It was the only thing she allowed herself to splurge on. Not that anyone has ever seen any of the contents, but she liked feeling powerful, knowing what was underneath her clothes. Today she chooses her most unrepentant red and black pair, the one with the garter belt and lace trim. She hides it underneath a turtleneck sweater and her uniform with the longest skirt. Though she chooses her highest heeled pumps. She puts up her hair tighter than before, slides her glasses into place. 

She shows up to work pristine. When he walks in, his hair a mess and bags under his eyes, she greets him with the coldest smile she could manage. He looks away. 

Good. 

She recites his schedule without looking up from her tablet once, and when she does to stare at him dead in the eye, he was looking at his schedule from his new work computer. The room was immaculately clean, the carpeting new. No evidence of what happened the night before. He probably preferred it that way. So if that’s what he wanted, then she whole-heartedly would just forget it too. 

“Do you need anything else, Director?”

“Nothing else, Ms. Johnson. You can leave.”

Rey nods and turns away. She thinks she hears her name said so softly, but that must be her imagination so she doesn’t stop walking. 

They do this dance around for weeks. The rarity of their interactions has become even more so. He doesn’t send her in to hand him the documents he needed. He has her place them on his desk before he walks in. They don’t make use of the intercom, most of their communication was done through messaging each other through the network. It would be lucky if they interact face-to-face three times a week. 

Phasma congratulates her when she passes the two-month secretary expiry period that everyone else succumbed to. In the secretarial office’s non-official group chat, they send her the same ‘Congrats, you didn’t die!’ meme in several variations. 

Even though it fucking hurt, she knew that this was for the best. She was his employee. And the only thing that bound them was her impeccable work ethic. He does not tolerate mediocrity, and she doesn’t too. It was the one thing they have in common, their drive. It was why they respected each other. 

Still. 

She was feeling so lonely staring at the matte ebony walls, eating alone at the pantry that only she ever uses because her boss was a vampire and he doesn’t eat plebeian food so before dinner, she asked Finn if they could eat together. He agrees because he says that he had to tell her something, thankful that he had the night shift so they could meet. They go to their usual place just outside the building. 

“I was waiting when you finally get free of his evil clutches. Are you going back to the secretarial office soon?” He said as he spoons some of his strawberry yogurt into his mouth. Finn looks at her expectantly. Rey shakes her head. 

“No, not yet”.

“But it’s been more than two months, Rey. I mean, I’m not doubting you because I know you’re awesome. But how has he not driven you crazy?” Rey picked at the lettuce of her sandwich, trying to figure out how to best savor it. She usually bites around to save the goodness in the middle for last, but now she doesn’t know. The mayo looks different, more yellowish. But it tastes better. 

“It’s fine, really. The work isn’t that different. I don’t even see him that much.” She tries to keep the bitterness out of her voice. 

“I guess so. Thanks, by the way. Since you started doing his emails work has been less like being a slave.” He laughs, then takes a sip of his soda. His phone pings and he looks down, smiling at the screen. She had an inkling about what he was going to say. It was everywhere on his face, it was there on his bubbly smiles.  _ Oh, peanut.  _ Rey smiles, even though he couldn't see. It was so good to see her best friend so happy.

What was it that he said?

"I don't do his emails though. What made you think that? Finn?" He was busy typing a message, most probably to Rose. It was so obvious that his cheeks would probably hurt from smiling.

"Oh. Oh, because they seemed--I don't know--he's super demanding usually. He doesn’t put anything inappropriately aggressive but you know he’s judging you from behind the screen and it’s not good for anyone’s mental health, I’m sure. But now he signs his emails with ‘Thanks’ sometimes. Everyone almost cried when we read his congratulations after we put up Resistance’s new server.” Rey’s mind roils in confusion. She takes a bite of her sandwich, trying to eat her feelings away.

“Oh. I didn’t know. I thought that he always signs his emails like that. The ones to the secretarial office always had it. Maybe he just forgets, I don’t know. Who knows what Solo thinks anyway.” Her sandwich disappears faster than she intended. Rey’s being so hungry, lately. She wakes up just before dawn, opening the fridge to rob it of its contents while trying to be quiet. She finished a quarter jar of some chocolate spread and half a loaf of bread last night. 

“Well, I think it’s you. Keep it up, Rey. Maybe one day he’ll let us have day-offs for reasons that don’t have to involve us being hospitalized. Anyway, I was going to say--”

“That Rose said yes?” Rey rolls her eyes. He groans in frustration. 

“I know everyone knows about my thing for her, but I always thought it annoyed her or something. And you know she’s scary, so I didn’t think she’d be this cute.” Finn shows her his phone, to the strings of messages overflowing with so much cute emojis that the words got buried in hearts. 

“This is Rose? The Rose that wired Director Hux’s lighting wrong because he was being an ass, Rose?” Finn was a software engineer, but Rose was the head of hardware. It spoke lots about him that he fell for the one lady that scared his whole department shitless. 

“Right?”

“We should go to lunch, sometime. I really want to know her more, peanut.”

“Really, Rey? I’ll find a common time for all of us. Solo’s been keeping you to himself so much. Your hours are crazy. I can’t believe you come in at lunch and stay until everyone’s gone. You sure he’s not being inappropriate in any way? Are you comfortable working with him?” 

“Yeah, he’s alright. He’s just an ass in the way you already know.” 

Was him biting her and drinking her blood considered inappropriate?

“Be careful, alright? You know how he is with women.”

“Yeah.” It came out in a sigh. The rare times she’d seen him is when he walks out to go to his dates. He doesn’t acknowledge her as he disappears into the night and comes back with barely a glance of recognition thrown at her. Rey picks at the empty wrappers of her sandwich. 

The phone in her pocket starts to vibrate. She looks at the caller ID, and it wasn’t a contact registered. The string of numbers looked suspicious. She wipes mayonnaise from her lips and then swipes at her screen to answer. 

“Good afternoon, this is Rey Jo--”

“Where are you?” After almost two weeks of not hearing it, the feeling of his voice vibrating in her ear made blood rush to her cheeks. He sounded gruff, angry. Rey runs through her tasks of the day, knowing she did everything properly. He has never called her before, always just used the intercom. She’d always been close and at hand. 

“I’m eating dinner. Is there something wrong, Director?” Finn watches her suspiciously, narrowing his eyes. She grimaces. 

“Where are you?”

“Eating dinner. I told you. Humans need to eat if you remember. I’ll be back five minutes before the end of my break. Is there something you need?” 

_ “You are so uncouth,” _ Finn whispers. Rey shushes him. 

“Is there someone with you?” 

What?

“Is there anything you need, Director? I’d like to get back to my food, please.” Maybe she should stop taunting him, majorly because he was responsible for her paycheck. But she hadn’t felt this much power over him in a long time. 

“No. Nothing. Get back as soon as you can. We can talk about it when you get back.” He cuts off the call. Alright. 

“What was that about?” Rey shrugs. They talk and Rey complains about everything and nothing for thirty-two minutes before her alarm rings. It was Finn’s turn to pay for the food so she didn’t bring her bag. They start walking back.

Halfway on the way to the office, the skies open up above them and drench them in the downpour. It hadn’t been in the forecast, and both of them hadn’t had the thought to bring an umbrella. They were soaked by the time they come in. Finn trudges on the tiled floor like a wet dog, saying that he’ll change in his office. He had used his jacket to guard her against most of the rain, but the water got through and she felt her buns fall limp. Finn hugs her so tight, and then they say their goodbyes. They promise to meet again soon. She smiles and waves as he walks away. 

In the privacy of the elevator, she lets down her soggy hair. The temples of her glasses get caught in the movement. In her panic, she steps on them and hears them crack under her heel. They are unsalvageable, one lens in two pieces, as she picks them up. She catches sight of herself in the mirrored doors of the elevator. 

Shit, she looks like hell. 

Without the tightness of her buns, her hair frames the soft edges of her face and makes her look years younger than she is. The shape of her glasses makes her look like a stern librarian, something that she held onto because without that kind of intimidation people tend to look her over. Without her secretary face, she looked like a child. Too soft. 

And because her day hadn’t been rotten enough as it is, Solo was standing over her desk when the elevator doors open. He didn’t even give her a chance to duck into the bathroom to fix herself. He was glaring at the wall, the same way she’d been doing earlier, but he turns when he hears the door of the elevator open. His eyes widen as he sees her. 

“Miss Johnson?” Rey straightens her back. She felt so vulnerable. She didn’t like it. 

“Yes, Director. Forgive me for showing up like this. I’ll be back in a second.” There was a bag in a drawer with a spare set of clothes that she kept just in case. Rey retrieves it, avoiding his gaze as he watches her. She tries to duck out of his gaze and dash into the hallway leading to the bathroom, but his voice arrests her as she gets up. 

“So this is what you look like without the mask?” The corners of his mouth curl up in a knowing smile. His eyes strangely soft, looking as if he could see through her soul as he leans on her desk. 

“Funny you should say that, Director. What with your sunglasses and your gloves.” She sighs. “We all want to hide something.” 

“Don’t hide from me.” It was spoken like he didn’t want her to hear it. 

Rey looks up to him, and there was something there in his face and the tightness of his hands at the edge of her desk, his lips moving as if she had something he wants to beg for. Rain hits the outsides of the glass, drowning out the noise of the city. Rey’s heart skips a couple of beats, grasping for words that form no meaning but feel like something. 

“I--”

“I need you.” Her breath gets stuck in her lungs, and she feels like she’s in a plane during take-off, that strange light heaviness, the same ringing in her ears. Rey grips her bag, holding herself against conclusions that she knows would hurt, bracing for whatever words come next. “I need your help.”

Oh. Okay. 

She breathes out, trying to hide disappointment as relief. 

“Of course. For what?” 

“I looked over your notes on the records you sent me. I agree with you. I know you suspect that there are… strange things that are happening in this company.”

“Stranger than you being a vampire?”

“I hate that word.”

“Are you giving me a Twilight speech? Because for your information I’d leave you for Edward Cullen. Or Jasper. I’d totally leave you for Jasper.” She watches as his face twists further and further into confusion. Rey tries to stop herself from smiling, but his face looked so adorable--look at that, Ben Solo, adorable--that she couldn’t help herself. 

“You read vampire books?”

“You don’t?”

“Why would I? They always get us wrong anyway. Immortality and eternal youth? Ha.”

“Not even to entertain yourself? Find self-discovery in Bram Stoker? Anne Rice? I don’t know, what do you do in your free time?” Rey doesn’t know what a man who enjoys grinding people down about their grammatical errors does for fun. 

“There are a lot of things that I want to do. But you know my schedule better than I do, Ms. Johnson. And the two of us don’t have that kind of free time. And we’re going to have less of that if you say yes to my proposal.”

She raised an eyebrow. 

“How do you feel about joining me in taking down Snoke?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take Me to Church by Hozier because they are my muse and they are beautiful :)


	7. honey, you, you're atlas in his sleeping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! It's me again...sorry this took so long. I already had the last scene in my head and I couldn't stop until I reached it. I think this is longer than all the parts combined so I hope it's satisfying. Thank you!
> 
> Also this part of the anthology would probably take 10 chapters-ish?

“Rey!” 

She jumps from where she’s hunched on the table, knocking her teeth with the spoon she was licking peanut butter off of. Beebee jumps up from where they were lounging, previously enjoying being petted by Rey’s foot, and the annoyed cat saunters off and heads to the direction of their food bowl. Rey turns guiltily towards Maz. It was five in the morning, and she was perched on the chair, surrounded by fruit, biscuits and a variety of bread. “What in heavens are you doing there?  _ Mirasol _ , you almost gave me a heart attack.” 

“Morning, Ma." Maz rubs a wrinkly hand over her chest, rubbing away the surprise. She walks around their dining table to get a pitcher of water from the fridge. After she finishes her glass, she sighs and looks at Rey suspiciously. 

“Are you eating well? You’re looking flushed. I heard you come in an hour ago. I hope you’re not burning yourself out.”

“I’m alright. I ate after I left the office. You remember the breakfast place right next to Resistance? It’s open twenty-four hours now. I had some pancakes, earlier. I'll just finish this then go back to sleep.” Rey scoops another overflowing spoonful of peanut butter and slathers it on top of a slice of bread. While she’s doing that, she shoves a couple of grapes into her mouth. 

Maz leans on the counter, facing her, sighing. 

“I know I’m the one who taught you how to replace sleep with food but  _ mirasol _ , I’m getting worried about you. I never see you anymore.” Maz ran their cantina, and she wakes up just after Rey crawls to her bed. She leaves Rey with breakfast and something to eat for lunch, but she comes back from the lunch rush after Rey leaves for work. Rey drops her sandwich and opens her arms. Maz steps into the hug. Her mother was not a very tall woman so that seated as she was, she could bury her face into Maz’s chest. 

“I missed you too. I’m sorry. Work’s been so crazy lately.” Rey tightens her arms around her. Maz pats her head, sighing.

“Rey, is Ben treating you well? That boy. Tell me and I’ll let his mother chew him out.” 

It's been years, but Rey was still surprised that someone cared for her as deeply as Maz did. When she’d been a month off of the street, trying not to touch too many things in Maz’s house just in case she gets mad, she sat on the couch thinking how to ask the woman if she could turn the TV on. Then Maz handed her the remote as she slipped on her shoes. Rey had seen way too many nice people turn nasty to let herself get comfortable, but Maz had never raised her voice at her even once. That was the day she went back to work, after a month of leave to help her settle—back to the world that she ran in the palm of her hand, and Rey wanted to drown out the silence with the inane chatter of the television. 

_ “I’ll be back at 6, sweetheart. I left lunch in the fridge. Just reheat it in the microwave alright? I’ll cook you dinner when I get back.” _

_ “It’s okay… Ma. I can cook.”  _ The word first felt uncomfortable, since none of her previous foster parents made her call them anything else other than their names. But the single syllable Maz asked her to call her had made her feel at home more than any promise of comfort she had been previously offered. It made her feel a part of the household. Which she was. The adoption papers had been signed, resting safely inside a drawer in Maz’s room. 

_ “And you will. But our stove is a bit finicky these days. I’ll teach you how to work it at the weekend. For now, you focus on school, alright? Call me if you need anything?” _

Maz texted her every other hour. Her last text had been a question about what she wanted to eat for dinner. She said spaghetti. She’d only previously tasted it exactly three times before, in the same greasy restaurant her foster parents took her to, along with their five other children. She can’t remember where that restaurant had been, only that she had to share one plate with her other ‘siblings’. It tasted horrible. Maz's was light-years away, and up 'til now remains at the top of her list. Who knew a secretary with a schedule like Maz could cook up about a thousand different dishes? She’d worked tirelessly for a company that doesn’t exist anymore, but whose memory is still very much respected, taking care of her almost as effortlessly as she could set up meetings, and she was the reason Rey was where she is now. She’d learned from the very best. 

“He’s fine. Not as bad as I expected.” Did Maz know about his food… preferences? Something tells her that she does. But Rey didn’t feel like opening that can of worms right now.

“I know you wouldn’t have had this kind of opportunity in Resistance, now that First Order took over it almost entirely. But I wish- I don’t know,  _ mirasol _ . I just hope you’re doing well there.”

“It’s been good so far.” Rey sighs, picking a grape and chewing it thoughtfully. “I’ll leave at the first whiff of illegal, Ma. I know you trust me to make that decision.” She knew that First Order’s reputation was what worried her mother. Under the shiny veneer of the top tech company in the continent, writhing maggots of controversy. 

“Thank you.”

“I hope I make you proud.”

“Oh,  _ mirasol _ , you know you already do.” Maz kisses her forehead. 

...

Rey narrows her eyes at the Director as she drops a whole armful of envelopes and folders full to bursting on his desk. It’s been a week of non-stop combing through all the files in the network she was allowed to see, and Solo even authorized her–in a slightly terrified voice, when she told him she could hack into their servers cleanly–to look through the files she wasn’t. She stayed longer and longer each night, and this time it was nearing dawn. She hoped Maz didn’t worry too much when she texted her that she wouldn't be getting home soon. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Solo looks up from his screen and smirked, raising an eyebrow. He doesn’t even look ruffled after hours of staring at his screen and not moving from his chair. 

“When I accepted your proposal, I thought it would be more of a, you know, partnership. I didn't expect that I would do all the work, Director Solo.” 

Since the ‘event’, Rey had been trying to distance herself emotionally from him. She would repeat the mantra: that she was just his secretary and nothing more, and that this was a professional relationship with a little blood involved, reminding herself that she was just doing her job when she helped him, and trying as hard as she could to limit her thoughts from straying too much– which was hopeless, since she’d already touched herself to the thought of him too many times that she stopped bargaining with her conscience. He was just attractive, she said to herself, she appreciated him  _ aesthetically. _ She could do that. Right? It got even harder when he started loosening up since she agreed to help him take down the CEO. He doubled up on the smirks, playful taunts, boyish smiles. He was flirting with her shamelessly. It hadn’t been a good two weeks for her cardiovascular health. 

“Ah, but you see, Ms. Johnson. I’m more of the  _ face _ of this revolution. I’m doing so much already, don’t you think?” Rey rolls her eyes. “Did you find the records about the Starkiller Project? Hux headed that before he was a director. It gave him what he needed to be on the board.”

“He gave contracts to the military, yes. But look at this, Director. Some of these are offshore accounts and dummy companies. On the surface, most of these are legitimate, all registered, but I did some snooping and these companies are completely unknown to people in the areas they’re in. We sold millions worth of spyware to a production company in Coruscant, and they haven’t produced a single film in a decade and no one living nearby knows they exist.” Rey stepped back and lets him take it in. His frown deepens as his eyes fly over the page. His grip tightens on the folder that it creases at the edges. 

Rey can't say that she knows the director very well. She'd only known him for a few months. But Ben Solo she knew. His name had been mixed in with laughter, his mother and Maz talking over the phone about a well-loved child who cried when a caterpillar living on their porch 'died'. Then became the happiest when he watched the butterfly shake its wings for the first time. They have a picture of Ben– with wide eyes, crooked teeth, and ears peeking from his mussed hair--and that butterfly, and his parents on their mantle, because Maz treated everyone like family. Then there was the worry, sometimes fear. Leia would call Maz sometimes to ask if he was in their house. He never was, but his mother, at the end of her rope, always asked. Then his name was whispered with pain, of missed calls, forgotten names, and leaving his family on the other side of the door, too focused on burning away the legacies he was burdened with to look back. This was the Ben Solo that she knew.

Who is this in front of her now?

“I can’t— I’ve been a part of this.” He has such a readable face, Rey noticed. Or maybe just in the privacy of his office. She watches him cycle through disbelief, disgust, anger, fear, and a thousand more. He looked so distraught, spiraling down into himself, that Rey leaned over his desk and grabbed his hand. 

“And now you can help undo it.” She says it with as much conviction as she could manage, trying to pour in her courage into that one sentence, hoping that some of it would pass onto him. She believes in herself, believes in him, believes that they can do this together. He looks at her with careful hope in his eyes, and nods. 

“I guess I can.” He smiles, his eyes shining. His pulse jumps under her hand. He turns his wrist and grabs hers in return. “And I have you.”

“Bet your ass you do. Chin up, Solo. We have so much to do.” He laughs. It was a wonder to hear, felt like that picture on the picture on the mantle came to life in front of her. Rey’s heart skips. She hopes he doesn’t hear. But from the way his smile grows wider, she just knows he can. 

Then his grin turns wicked.

“You like it when I’m good, don’t you?”

“What—” Her cheeks flush. She tries to get away halfheartedly, laughing, but he tightens his grip, not enough to hurt but enough to keep her in place. She blushes deeper. 

“But you also like it when I’m mean.”

“Director Solo. I don’t think that's appropriate.” She quirks an eyebrow playfully, but her heart beats nervously as she watches his predatory smirk grow. His thumb caresses her wrist, just above where her pulse was leaping. 

“Thank you, Rey.” 

It was the first time he’d thanked her. 

Rey lets herself bask in the gentle glow of his gratitude. Then, she turns her smile into a weapon, leaning over his desk. 

“If you’re really thankful, you’ll come to the charity function tomorrow.” He lets her go, but not before running his thumb on the inside of her wrist, nose scrunching up in disgust.

“Dameron’s party? No, thank you.”

“It would be good exposure. Remind people that you exist. You need to make more connections, people to catch you when the shit hits the fan. Remember, you’re throwing the shit.” A smile grows slowly on his face, and Rey blushes for reasons she knew not.

“I like this mouthy version of you. If I keep you here longer, maybe you’ll curse at me out loud instead of just in your head. Lift that mask a little bit, sweetheart.” She rolls her eyes. 

“As soon as you lift yours. So, will you go? I already told them you were coming. And Ms. Castania has already agreed to accompany you. I sent her her favorite orchids. They’re not easy to get, mind you. Only one florist has contacts to the only person who grows them. So, are you really thankful that your secretary is so awesome?” Solo narrows his eyes at her, considering, the resounding ‘No’ still clear in his face. Then he smiles. Dangerously. 

“If you come with me, I’ll go.” He was taunting her. Still, her heart tumbles. The way he played with the pen in his fingers told her that he knew, moving in time to the beats in her chest. Rey gives him a look that she hopes wouldn’t betray everything that was tumbling inside of her. 

“What? Why? You can’t just cancel on Castania. You’re falling off her priority list. You’ve already ditched her twice.” He shrugs and leans back in his chair. 

“Send her the email. You know the one.” He picks up another stack of paper and mindlessly scans it. He pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“That’s your third girlfriend you broke up with this week. I have to adjust your schedule again. Is there something wrong?” Rey’s fingers tap on the screen of her tablet. Solo sighs, slumps like he’s tired. He looks away and shrugs. 

“Let me worry about that, Rey.” He sighs again. Rey stifles a yawn, but couldn’t so she hides it behind the back of her hand. “You need to rest. Eat.” Rey yawns again. Solo’s expression softens.

“You do too.”

“Are you offering?” Rey rolls her eyes. He laughs. “Call some delivery place, Rey. You need to eat. I can feel your hunger and it’s making me hungry, too. Do you want to be bitten?” There is a flicker of danger in the way he looked at her throat. Rey, too tired to do otherwise, rubs the side where she felt his gaze touch her. 

Maybe she did? She was too sleepy to argue. She nods, turning away. 

“Look through the files up top first. I’ll be back as soon as I’m done eating so we can discuss—” 

“Just eat here. You have to go home soon, don’t you? Just eat here so we can be done faster.” 

So she does. Solo clears half of his desk, chuckling at the volume of human sustenance that she needs to function. She sits beside him, on a chair he dragged way too close next to him from the opposite side of his table. He looks at her with gentle eyes as she listens to his input as she chews her  _ lumpia _ . Her full stomach was making her sleepy. His deep voice was soothing, and she only half understands what he was saying. Rey almost falls face-first into her plate when a powerful wave of sleep tempts her to close her eyes just a bit. Solo catches her before she gets too intimate with her fried rice. 

She vaguely remembers the crinkling of food wrappers as he cleared his desk, or his words when he said that she should lean back and rest her head. She nods as his hands guide her to a comfortable position on his chair. He disappears, and when he comes back and shakes her a bit to wake her, he has her bag in his hand, kneeling in front of her. 

“I can take you home. You’re too tired to go home like this. I don’t have a couch you can sleep on.”

“I can—” She falls asleep before she finishes her sentence. Solo shakes her knee to wake her. Her mind, hazy as it was, delights in the way his single hand spanned around her entire leg. She smiles at him dazedly. 

“Can I take you home? Or do you want to stay here? I think there’re comfortable couches in the break rooms downstairs.” There were not. This was First Order and the employees’ well-being is not anywhere near the top of their priority list. 

“—it’s okay. Your car would be comfy, I guess. You always have the nice things. Mm. Take me home.” He nods. Then she stretches an ankle, leaning forward to stand. But she only falls toward him, face burrowing in his neck. Feeling him was so  _ nice _ . She sighs. Solo chuckles softly. Her glasses, now askew, dig into him. She asks him to take them off and he does. “M’shoes too, please.” 

He slips them off her feet, hooking them on his fingers and slipping the strap of her bag on his shoulder. An arm goes around her back, the other snakes around the back of her legs, and then she was in his arms. Rey makes a small happy sound of contentedness and burrows deeper. Solo’s arms tighten around her. She clutches at the lapels of his jacket happily. 

She remembers a bit about him complaining that his car would smell so much like her now. Everything smelled like her, now. He drives and she wonders about where his chauffeur was for a short while before the comfort of his leather seats stole her away again. The half of his face that she could see looked so good in the passing muted colors of the streets just before dawn. Rey hid her smile under the suit jacket that was placed over her. It smelled like ozone in the air after lightning, burnt copper wires and the moss in their garden after a night of hard rain. Strangely, she remembers the powdery, pollen smell of the pink oleander blossoms that they got rid of because Beebee liked eating flowers and they could’ve gotten sick. 

She hears Maz’s voice. Solo couldn’t find her keys so he knocked on their door. Rey couldn’t process anything while she was in his arms, too contented to be there again. They spoke for a bit, then Maz led him to her room, where he settled her on her bed and tucked her in. He leaned over her for a bit, just as Maz did when she was a child before she kissed her forehead. He doesn’t, though. Because wouldn’t that be strange? Rey turned on her side, curling up and tugging at the end of his sleeve. 

“Thank you.”

“Thank you, Rey. Sleep.” 

Mumbled voices outside her door, and she slipped into the depths of nothing. 

....

“You were serious?” Rey asks for the nth time, and the beautician glances at her briefly before shaking her head with a smile. She still can’t believe he’d take her to an official function, and on one of her favorite holidays–mostly because of all the candy and how it fun it was to help doll up Maz’s nieces when they go trick-or-treating. Then another pin sinks into her hair and prods slightly at her scalp. It was surprising how many pins were needed to keep the loose curls around her face look natural. Yes, it looked beautiful, but she still wasn’t looking forward to pulling them out, putting her head on her pillow and finding about ten hairpins that she somehow missed. Solo doesn’t look up from his phone when he mumbled a single sound as an answer to her question. 

The dress was simple enough, following what curves she has, unadorned ivory white velvet falling elegantly near her ankles, a soft red leather (of course) belt tied around her waist– and on her feet, a pair of shiny new red-heeled pumps. Solo has spared no expense. Though he said that her clothing allowance would cover everything, the reluctance of the shop’s staff to tell her what anything cost told her that nothing that was on her right now could be covered by twice her monthly budget. The sly pass of a black card from his hand to the staff who greeted them at the door when he thought she wasn’t looking was added evidence. 

Rey looks over random spreadsheets to calm herself, trying to ignore the way Solo kept stealing glances once in a while, not actually doing anything of purpose on his phone. She has the report he was supposedly reading on her screen and his cursor hasn’t moved in about three hours. When it was done, Rey’s glasses were halfway up to her face in their usual position when a hand stops her. Solo shakes his head. Her anxiety triples. 

“I’ll look like a child. This is a formal event, I have to be presentable.” She sighs and Solo rolls his eyes. “Also, why am I not going to wear a mask? It’s a masquerade.” The beautician, who she’s directed the question to, has mysteriously disappeared. Solo rolls his jaw, does that chewing his lips thing he does when he’s thinking. He puts his hands over her shoulders, looking at her in the mirror. 

“Johnson. Look at yourself.” The woman in the reflection, with her plump pink lips and innocent gaze, looked as vulnerable as she felt. The white shimmer on her temples and cheeks turned light peach depending on the light, chunks of glitter as stars that surrounded her eyes. Pearls of different shapes and sizes had been threaded on the curves of her curls. She doesn’t even look like a secretary, only a woman on her way to have a great time– something she hasn’t let herself have in a long time.

“Fine. It’s pretty.” Solo’s hands squeezed her shoulders, then he sighed dramatically, running a hand through his hair in the most exasperated manner. It flopped beautifully down in the same way. Unfair. 

“You’re beautiful. Come on, let’s go. We must help the rich tell themselves they’re doing something good by occasionally feeding the hungry.” She laughs at that, taking the hand he offered to help her stand. Sitting in the chair made her legs stiff, and the back of the new shoes pinched. 

“Is that what you tell yourself at night?”

“How else do I sleep?”

“You never sleep.”

“Yes, I do. Just not around you. I still don’t believe that you won’t stab me in the middle of the night, Van Helsing style.”

“I won’t do something as underhanded as that. When I finally reveal my plans, you would be fully aware, Mr. Solo.”

“I expect no less of your skill, Ms. Johnson.” He takes the hand he held and wraps it around his arm. His muscles ripple under her palm. Rey sees him in a suit every day, but Ben Solo in a tuxedo had a more apparent effect on her. He was wearing black on black on black, which on one hand seemed theoretically absurd but on the other, he could completely pull off that it was entirely unfair. Rey also thought that she preferred ties, but one look at him in a bow tie and she was entirely changing lanes. She tries not to think about how it would look like undone and hanging loosely from his neck. She squeezes him tight, just to check if he was still real. In the back of the car, Ben leans his head on the leather back of the seat, closing his eyes and breathing as shallowly as he could. The realization that they’ve never been a small enclosed space together before hits her when he swallows to stop himself from breathing. Either by chance or purposefully, this could be bad for both of them for obvious bloody reasons. Solo’s hand fisted on his pants, just above his knee. 

“Director, we can open the windows,” she says, then glances at Mitaka who keeps his eyes forward. Rey already had her hand on the side console to reach for the button, but Solo’s hand covers hers entirely and stops her. He gently tightens his hold in a slight squeeze before letting her go. He opens his eyes just a bit, giving her a peek of those slitted pupils and their yellow-greenish glow. He smiles, and a fang peeks from his upper lip. Rey feels a chill run up her spine. Something not even close to fear. 

“It won’t make a difference, Ms. Johnson.” His pristine pants wrinkled in his grip. Rey anxiously rubbed her wrists from where they were exposed, ruffling the edges of her velvet sleeves. 

“The fresh air—” He glared at her, furious. A heat climbs up the back of her neck. 

“I already have you on my tongue,” he growls. He pinches the bridge of his nose, swallows again. “It won’t make a difference.”

“‘kay. Okay. What can I do to help?” He drops his elbow on the armrest of the car door, pressing his temple on the cold glass. He sighs, then immediately regrets it when he has to breathe in again. He licks his lips. 

“Calm down.” He fixes her with a dangerous stare, lips quirking slightly at the sides. Her cheeks heat, and he chuckles lowly. “I can taste everything you feel.”

“That’s quite unfair, don’t you think?” She looked away, trying to staunch her blush by avoiding his gaze. Looking at him feels very similar to drowning, but in a devilishly good way.

“You think it’s unfair that I can tell what you think? That it’s unfair that if you blush once, all the blood I’ve had in a week evaporates from my body?” 

“Maybe if you went to the dates I scheduled for you, you wouldn’t have this problem right now. It’s not my blood. You’re just hungry.” 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Ms. Johnson.” 

A few more strained minutes later, they arrive with Rey having all her blood intact and inside her body. It came close a few times, noticeable only by Solo putting his hands over his face, not breathing for as long as he could. Then they were rolling up a mansion on a hill with a beautifully manicured lawn, fountains that bubbled and twinkling lights that hung from trees swaying in the light breeze. He slips on his mask, a black wolf with slightly bared teeth that covered his entire face and hid his eyes. Rey missed him already. 

Solo stumbles out, but he fixes himself with poise like it was a deliberate misstep before anyone could notice. There were two or three photographers, but that was about it. He smiles and waves once, then he offers his hand to help her out of the car, bending down and tugging on her skirt when it catches slightly on the seat. He doesn’t let her go, brushing his thumb across her knuckles when he hears her breath hitch at the sight of all the masked attendees. She felt naked without something to cover her in a sea of paper faces, and she grips Solo’s hand to the point that she was sure it hurt him, but he never said a word, only held her closer.

A great hall had been converted to the most fashionable dark forest, with false desiccated trees reaching up above to a projected twinkling star-lit sky. There were smoke machines pumping out fog on the floor, moss placed in strategic places–sometimes even on top of the tablecloths, and the band was playing something heavy on the violins. In the almost darkness, Rey’s white dress stood out like a lighthouse. 

Solo turns his wolf-face towards her, and she tries to trick herself into relief as she imagines him smiling at her. He nods once, and their mission begins. He lets her go with only a bit of resistance. Then he disappears, swallowed by butterfly masks and opulence.

Names and faces under masks blur and shift, making small talk that amounted to moving the chest pieces Solo needed in place before he sets his plans into motion. It made her head whirl. She refuses every drop of alcohol she was offered, knowing that she needed to keep her head clear if she was going to survive the night. Solo had held his hand out to her the moment the dancefloor was opened, whispering about who she needed to prioritize while he adjusted her hair when it covered more of her eyes, tightening his hold around her waist at random times as he talked non stop of how he would rearrange the entire hierarchy of the First Order when he deposes Snoke. Unlike what she initially thought, and the knowledge instilled to her by novels and general media, his skin wasn’t cold. On the contrary, his body seemed to run hotter than normal. But she didn’t know any other vampire to compare it to, so she wasn’t sure. His hand pressed on the low of her back, a place balanced between avoiding touching her ass and the part of her back exposed by the very low dip of her dress. 

“Rey, are you listening?”

“Of course I am.”

“What did I just say?”

“Get on the good graces of Mr. Ackbar.”

“Hm. Yes. He’s a long-time friend of my mother’s. He’ll give you a hard time due to our, ah–history. But he’ll also see it like I’m looking for reconciliation.”

“Are you?”

“I haven’t decided yet. I’m mostly just flying blind right now.” His thumb brushes her back. The song starts to fade into another. They let go, throwing themselves back into the game. They meet again and again, as they attempt to cover more ground by separating, but they drift towards each other like planets stuck in each other’s gravities. Every time they meet, it was on the dancefloor, keeping each other on their toes as they consolidate the general feel of their recent conversations, Solo whispering in her ear in a low voice that becomes tenser as the night goes on.

She saves Dameron for last because she knew that questions about her mother and the mention of Solo’s mother would be inevitable. Unsurprisingly, he was wearing a suit that makes him look every bit of a heroic knight, his mask metallic and only covering half of his face and not his eyes. They gleamed playfully as Rey walks toward him, and she refuses the flute of champagne he offers her. “You look lovely, Ms. Johnson. Shame that you only dance with Solo.” He laughs, slightly buzzed but still graciously respectful. She’d encountered Poe Dameron a handful of times before, almost always when things were going wrong and Resistance was slipping deeper into the bog that First Order forced it into. He never looked fazed, and if Solo didn’t say otherwise when he was angry that one time, she would be sure that he was a vampire, too. But he wasn’t. He was just born like that. With perfect hair and that jawline.

“Is this your idea of asking for a dance, Mr. Dameron?”

“Oh, so you  _ do _ remember me,” he says, offering his hand to her. She takes it, and he leads her to the edges of the dancefloor, leading her to the song that slowly changed into one more mellow than the ones before. He leans in close to whisper in her ear. 

“The files you sent me–I’m saying this just to make sure, you know I trust you because Finn does–are they accurate? I’m just doubtful because it seems too good to be true. It doesn’t just give Resistance an edge, it also could maybe  _ finally  _ divorce itself of any ties with First Order.”

“They’re good numbers. I checked them myself. And the messages were obtained willingly and legally from previous employees. We already have more official statements than we need. If we get an update on the witness protection front, we can start on Snoke.”

“This is insane, you know. We’ve been digging dirt on him for years and you– you just happen.” Unfortunately, all previous attempts at Snoke only resulted in Resistance suffering the brunt of the damage. Dameron’s last attempt almost got him fired very publicly by Organa herself.

“You just need to wait a few more months. Solo knows what he’s doing.”

“But does he know about this part, Ms. Johnson?”

“It’s just investment, and if it all falls into place, it would do him well.”

“A bit more than what a secretary is supposed to be doing, don’t you think?”

“I like to strive high, Mr. Dameron.”

“I can see. Leia’s very proud of you, wants to send your mother regards in the form of a loving husband. Unfortunately, I am off the table for the foreseeable future.” She shakes her head, shoulders shaking with laughter. 

“No need for matchmaking.”

“Is that so? Solo finally made a move?”

She made a face that made him laugh, and he led them closer to the center of the dancing pairs. The song has almost ended now.

“By the way that I can tell he’s surely glaring at me under that ridiculous mask, I can assure you that he doesn’t like you dancing with me, or anyone else. A lot of the braver men here have tried all night, but he’s been very effective at keeping you all to himself. He hasn’t done that for anyone before. He’d played the playboy angle so well for the longest time that even I started to believe it. I’ve never seen him panic about anything I’ve done to get under his skin that this is highly entertaining to me. I should dance with you longer, just to see him wriggle.” She files away this information for later because she didn’t know what to make of it right now. Her mind was buzzing without a drop of alcohol, and her whole body felt like it was blushing. 

“Well, it seems I don’t need to wait that long.” Poe tilts his head teasingly, then chuckles. She looks at the direction he was looking at, and there she finds her boss stomping his way towards them. 

“I guess he’s done talking to Ackbar,” she says to distract herself from the way Solo almost pushed people out of his way. Poe pulled her closer, and Solo got there seconds later. 

“Good evening, Solo. You look good. Werewolf looks good on you.”

“Can’t say the same to you, Dameron–not very white knight, based on your track record.”

“Better than yours, still.”

“Now, now, no need to have a pissing contest on who’s got a better costume. Let’s just all agree that Mr. Teedo has outclassed us all by showing up to a suit and tie event like an astronaut just because it’s Halloween.” Poe laughs, Solo does not. She pats Dameron’s shoulder in goodbye, and he lets her go with a wink. She is hurried away from the dance floor, led to the hallway that leads out to the exit. He walks fast enough that she struggles to keep up, and adjusts his tie, an almost unnoticeable shake in his hand. 

“What’s wrong?”

“We have to leave.” 

“Are you feeling sick? Do I call your doctor? Do I call anyone on your list, I think Miss—”

“It doesn’t matter, Johnson. Let’s just get out of here.” He was swaying on his feet. Rey braced herself and was thankful she did so because she would’ve fallen on her ass when he fell towards her in the next second. She caught him by the waist, and thankfully he carried most of his weight.

“I’m sorry, I just—” He tried to pull himself away, but could only manage to stand a bit straighter, still mostly leaning on her shoulder. 

“Mitaka won’t be here in an hour. Let me handle this.” He made noises of protest, sounding more like a drunk that they let her have a room immediately when she smiled at the front desk. Turns out he already owned a room here, and they were ushered in by two men carrying Solo when he completely passed out.

They’ve gotten rid of their masks. 

She was about to leave, she’d already called Mitaka to inform him of the situation, when Solo opened his eyes. 

“Rey?” He looked sickly pale, and his cheeks had been cold to the touch. Curls of his hair stuck to his forehead slicked with sweat. 

“Director. You passed out. I brought you to your room here. I already called Mitaka for blood, you’ll be fine soon. I’ll update you on the—” His hand weakly gripped her arm. He looked at his hand like it was currently the strongest part of him, as if all hope rested where he held her.

“Don’t leave.” It was the softest plea she’d ever heard. A blush bloomed on the highest points of his cheeks, just below his eyes. He sighed long and deep, then lets her go. “I’m sorry. Go. I’ll be fine.” He fists the hand that touched her, his hand leaving a print on her sleeve, the velvet remembering his touch. Her skin burned. Solo groans.

They’ve gotten rid of their masks. 

“Rey, go. Now. Stop smelling fantastic, I can’t do much about myself right now. Go.” He sighed once more, then regrets it when he had to breathe in again. Her scent was ambrosia burning all the way down his throat, begging him to beg her for a taste. "Unless you want to stay,” he whispers weakly, voice cracking. His gaze zeroed in on the curve of her neck, half-hidden by the curled locks of her hair. Her breath hitches, but she steels herself, remembering how the first time ended up. He runs a hand over his face.

“No, thank you. I don’t like to be reminded how my blood tastes second-rate, thank you very much. I’ll let Mitaka know you’re awake.” She turned to leave. Solo adjusts himself to sit on the bed and glower over her. 

“You think your blood tastes… second-rate?”

“Oh, I think you made yourself very clear on that. Don’t worry, I don’t hold it against you, I know how hard it is to please your tastes and—” His nostrils flared, and his glowing eyes turn furious. He laughs bitterly. It only makes her angrier.

“Do you know how hard it is to stop myself from devouring you? How I have to limit your presence in my office because your scent makes me want to have you on my desk and- just biting you?” She shivers, and she leans away. Solo chases her down, so much that she was almost pressed to the mattress if it weren’t for her leaning on her elbows. 

“I don’t think you appreciate your blood as much as I do, Ms. Johnson. Maybe I should just take it from you.” He was breathing very deeply now, shoulders eclipsing the lamp on the side table, the only source of light in the room. 

“No need to lie, Mr. Solo. I understand it’s just your hunger talking.” Her voice shakes. His jaw twitched, and he licked his lips, running his tongue on the fangs that grew longer as he stroked them. 

“I don’t appreciate being doubted. But if you want proof...” Solo tilted his head, smiled slowly– fangs slowly peeking out of his lips. He runs his tongue over them, breathing deeply. Rey swallowed, head swimming as her heart pounded its way out of her chest. She remembered his lips on her neck. Then the way he pushed her away for entire days after the incident.

“Go ahead. When you wake up tomorrow I’m sure—” Solo moved slowly, but time has stopped and she felt both numb and oversensitized at once, his hands were at her waist and he pressed his nose in her hair, breathing the same way as he did the first time, savoring her. Her whole body jumped at his touch, vibrating with a need she didn’t know how to fulfill. But she knew how  _ he  _ could.

“Ask me to bite you, Rey. Then ask me again tomorrow if you still don’t believe me. Keep doubting. I’d love to have you  _ everyday _ .” He was running his nose lightly up and down her neck, lingering at the skin at the back of her ear. She holds his wrist to push his hands away, but she only grips his wrists tighter. His body poised, shoulders stiff, ready to pounce the moment she decides to let him. 

"I know you'll treat me the same way again tomorrow, but I know you need blood, so just shut up and drink." His face fell immediately as she spoke, looking every bit like a kicked puppy. He smiles sadly, lips quirking up the sides once and then he was inching away slowly like any sudden movement would scare her away. 

"I'm sorry. For treating you that way. I wish I could take it back, I know I overstepped. Being with you all the time is torture enough. I knew I shouldn't have tasted you. Now you have to deal with me being desperate all the time. I'm sorry, I really am. For biting you… and all the rest. I shouldn't have further lowered your low expectations of me." He slides down, stretching out the bed, closing his eyes and leaning his head on the bed frame. "Please send Mitaka in."

"Mr. Solo."

"It's okay, Rey. You've already done more than you should." He pats her hand, eyes still closed. "You should go get some rest. It's been a long day." His hands start to shake, he tries to close them so she wouldn't notice. His fists open and close, trying to hold himself against pleading for her again. 

A fever burned through him and he broke out in cold sweat. He was biting his lip violently now, and tremors start at his jaw, going down the length of his body. After a while, he calms, body relaxing. 

She thought he'd fallen asleep, and she moved to stand, but he opened his eyes again, not saying anything, just looking at her face and smiling sadly. 

_ "Rey." _

"Yeah, it's me." He smiles. 

"I saw you leave." 

"I’m still here. Ben?" 

"That sounds really nice. Wish you would call me that all the time." The corners of his eyes wrinkled. “You sound exactly the same.”

"Why would I sound any different? Ben?"

"This is painful. Don't be scared, Rey. Your fear tastes awful." He chuckles darkly. "Then again it's my fault, isn't it? Driving you away? I wish I could be better because you deserve better. You could have better." He sits up, leaning forward and raising her knuckles to her cheek. "I wish I'd never wake up from this."

"Ben, you're making me worry."

"Don't I always?" He leans even further, "Can I hold you? Just for a while. This is very nice." She nods, confused. But she still wrapped her arms under his arms and pressing her head in the space under his jaw. She held her gently, like he expected he had to let her go any moment now. "If I knew blood fever feels this good, I would've eaten less." He leaned down, burying his face at her neck. 

"This is really good." 

Blood fever? Was he probably delirious? If it worked anything like a high fever, he probably was. 

"You've already said that."

"I know, I just wanted to say it again." He tightens his arms around her. She should really call Mitaka, but his words niggled at the back of her head. He must have been confused before he woke up. He needed blood. Right now.

"Ben. You have to drink. Bite me." He just hummed, then continued to ignore her pats on his shoulder. 

"No, Rey. I wouldn't do that to you, not even here. I like this already, no need for anything more. You said no."

"Ben, I'm serious. You might get worse. I don't know how to deal with sick vampires." She tried to push away from him. He was burning up now, his temperature rising rapidly in the space of a minute.

"I'll be fine when Mitaka comes. Just don't disappear before he does. Please?" He presses a soft kiss on her shoulder, smiling.

"Ben, you're not dreaming. Just bite, please. You need blood."

"No need for that. Just you."

“Please?” Her only answer was a single hum, a sigh, then his thumbs drawing circles at the parts of her back covered by her dress.

His breaths were coming in slower, his hold on her becoming looser. She didn’t know what happens to starved vampires, but it surely isn’t good. And they were in a delicate situation, he can’t fall sick right now, their enemies were always watching. Time to change tactics.

“Are you asleep?”

“Mm. No. I will be, soon. Don’t worry.”

“This is your dream, isn’t it?”

He nodded, then continued to draw circles on the small of her back. 

“But you’re not using it to get what you want.”

“Not everything I want is allowed.”

“But this is a dream, isn’t it?”

“Maybe. Nothing can feel as good as this.”

“Are you sure? If this is a dream, then you can take more. You can take what you want.”

He doesn’t answer.

“So what about what  _ I  _ want?”

“Hm?”

“Will you do what I say, if it’s what I want?” His hands stop, body tensing.

“Look at me, Ben.” He lifts himself, puts enough distance between them to do so, but doesn’t look at her in the eye.

“Look at me,” she says as she lifts a hand to his face, caressing his cheek, tracing the dark circles under his eyes. He’d been really tired this past week. Ben turned his face toward her touch, pressing his lips softly to her covered wrist.

“Will you do as I say?” He stares at her, unfocused and confused. But he nods.

She moves closer, almost sitting on his lap, then slowly pulls his arm around her waist to press his palm to the skin of her back, looking at him as she does it. His touch is electric, and everything inside her tenses. Ben swallows, panting now.

_ “Rey..."  _ So helpless. 

“Close your eyes.” He does. 

“Just breathe, Ben. That’s good.” His other hand crept up, holding her wrist closer to his nose. She runs her fingers over his temple. “Can you describe my scent to me?”

“What?”

“Humor me.”

“I—” He does that thing with his lips, then he swipes his tongue over them. Just once. It makes her remember the dryness of hers, so she licks her lips, too. “Have you had pomegranate?”

“Yes?”

“That. And custard. Wine. Chocolate.” His mouth hung open, tasting her in the air. Good.

“Sounds like quite a meal.” She led him down with a hand at the back of his head, he went down obediently.

_ “Yes.” _ His voice dropped several octaves, vibrating in her skin. “You taste even better.” He was so close now, and she rose, bringing the flesh of her shoulder closer to his lips. His breath touches her, the ends of her hair tickling her that she couldn’t suppress a shiver. His lips graze her ever so lightly. She presses her front to his, burning herself in his heat. 

His tongue darts out, stealing a taste. It takes a few seconds and he tries again, and again. And again. He licks a long stripe up her neck, nibbling at her jaw. She feels the points of his fangs with every press of his lips. 

Rey presses her lips to his ear, whispers. 

_ “Bite me, Ben.”  _

And he does. 

She lets out a small yelp of surprise, turning it into a moan as he drags her over his lap for better leverage. The wetness of his tongue soothes the fire licking up her skin, and she held onto him as he led them down, shifting them until he was pressing her down the bed with his body. His fangs lifted, lips pressing hard on her skin, sucking harshly. Hot. Wet. She can feel him going for every drop of her that threatened to fall, licking at her after he chased them down his mouth. The hand on her wrist leaves, buries itself in her hair and  _ pulls _ . The grip tilts her head in a way that exposes her neck to him even more. He bites her again. 

It feels even better. 

Rey closes her eyes. 

His hand has found her hip, pressing her down with his weight. He groans in her ear, gripping every part of her he could reach. Rey knows the warmth that builds in her core, the emptiness inside her that she wanted to fill with him. In all those times before, her fingers hadn’t been enough, but she felt like she could come just like this. He pulls at her hair harder, sucking so violently he would surely leave a mark. Her toes curl on the sheets, and everything overflows. 

He lifts his face, staring at her as her back bows, arching toward him, lips slightly parted as tears pool on the corner of her eyes. He chases her high with his lips on hers, forcing his way in and swallowing her moan. She whimpers into his mouth. He tasted her orgasm. She tasted her blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 
> 
> "mirasol" means 'sunflower' in our language (Filipino), because I started writing this chap when Mar watched tfa :)
> 
> I'm also on twitter! So you can scream at me at sinaingsinala


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